And At Last I See the Light Through Love's Open Door
by aemelia113
Summary: AU where Elsa was sent to live in Corona after the Incident. Flynn is her childhood best friend. Who else would she fall in love with than the person who knows her best? It's too bad that life seems to have other plans. I am sorry for the cheesy title, but not the shameless Felsa shipping. Cover art is a manip by Tea Tower on tumblr
1. So It Begins

A/N: My first Frozen fic! I've written all but the final chapter or two at this point, so hold on to your butts because this monster is a thirteen-chapters-so-far epic by my usual oneshot and under ten chapter standards. I have no self control, so every one of my written chapters will be up within the week, if not the next couple of days or even the next couple of hours. This is a very alternate AU, where Elsa is sent to live with her aunt and uncle in Corona after the incident with hitting Anna with magic. Also, Elsa and Flynn are childhood best friends. This fic will involve shameless, unsubtle shipping of Felsa. I make zero apologies. If I have an OTP, this as-far-from canon as possible tugboat is it. This fic is pretty lowkey about violence and contains zero sin. Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen or Tangled. Onwards and upwards!

Chapter 1: It's Funny How Some Distance Makes Everything Seem Small

 _Temporary separation._

Elsa stood before her aunt and uncle, shaking, thoughts swirling through her head like snowflakes on a wild breeze. It wasn't her fault. It had been an accident. It wasn't _fair_. Anna...

 _Would be safer without me around._

Her parents had decided that after what happened in the ballroom, that it would be best if Elsa relocated to somewhere else so Anna wouldn't get hurt again. Elsa loved her sister more than anything, and if what it took to keep her safe was Elsa being far away, then that was the right thing to do. It had to be. Her parents wouldn't have sent her away if it wasn't, would they?

"Far away" was Corona, a kingdom not so distant from Arendelle where her father's sister, Arianna, ruled as queen by the side of her husband, Frederic. It was far warmer than Arendelle, and King Agdar and Queen Iduna thought the milder climate might dampen her ice powers. Besides, the queen and king were family. They would be excellent for Elsa. Of course, the letter announcing Elsa's arrival came on the boat with Elsa, so her sudden appearance was a bit of a surprise.

"I cannot believe that they would send a child alone on a sea voyage with no warning to us to expect her. How would we know to look for her if anything went wrong?" King Frederic grumbled, crinkling the parchment in his large hands.

Queen Arianna laid a soothing hand on his chest. "I'm certain that they have their reasons, darling. The important thing is that Elsa is here now, and we ought to make her feel welcome instead of standing here talking about her."

"Quite right," the king agreed quickly. "I'll see to arranging her tutors."

"Come, my dear. Let's get you settled in," the queen offered, extending a friendly hand.

She wouldn't be so willing to touch Elsa if she knew how dangerous it was. How dangerous _she_ was. Elsa refrained from accepting the hand, only nodding and agreeing quietly. She followed her aunt down the hallways like a small pale ghost, silent and barely there. One accusation kept ringing in her head, louder with each iteration.

 _I almost killed her. I almost killed her. I almost- I- Ialmostkilledher._

She would miss Anna and home terribly, but she had to stay away, to keep Anna safe from her. But what about these people? She'd have to learn control, and once she did, she could go back. She could see Anna again. She focused until the self-recrimination was replaced by the mantra her Papa taught her.

 _Conceal. Don't feel. Don't let it show._

They arrived at a door. She supposed it was her door now.

"This room has a good view of the harbor and it's only two doors down from ours so we'll be close by if you need anything," her aunt explained, striding over to the wardrobe to select a shift for sleeping.

The ship had come in near sundown, and Arianna thought her young niece could use some rest after her long journey as well as whatever ordeal had led her to their doorstep. She frowned over the choices in the wardrobe, unpacked from Elsa's belongings by castle staff. Why hadn't her parents had cooler clothing made and sent? Why hadn't they sent word ahead for she and Frederic to have a set made for Elsa? What on earth had happened that there was no time to make preparations?

"This won't do at all. These are entirely too warm for our climate. We'll go to the seamstress tomorrow and have you fitted for a more appropriate wardrobe," she announced, selecting the thinnest shift and handing it to Elsa.

She noticed that the young girl was very careful not to touch her hand when accepting the garment. She made a mental note to remind Frederic not to show affection physically. Her husband cut an imposing figure, but he was a hugger, and it was becoming clear that their odd, pale little wisp of a niece wouldn't take it very well. There would be some adjustments to make. The letter hadn't specified how long Elsa would be staying. It hadn't specified much of anything, but Arianna was glad to have the girl in the castle. She wouldn't replace their lost daughter- of course not- but having a little princess around to watch over and care for might ease the ache the slightest bit. Elsa wasn't much older than Rapunzel would be now.

Elsa, for her part, was both nervous and excited to be in this new place. What would be different from home? Would anything be the same? She was interested in finding out.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she whispered.

"Dear girl, you can call me Aunt Arianna if you like," the queen laughed.

"Thank you, Aunt Arianna," she echoed.

"Get some sleep, Elsa. We've a big day tomorrow."

Elsa woke choking back a scream from a nightmare about killing Anna. It was a bad one this time. Anna froze into an ice sculpture of herself and then shattered into pieces when Elsa tried to reach for her. Elsa touched her cool cheeks and felt tears frozen in their tracks across her skin. She scrubbed them off her face and shifted position to sit up. She heard the blankets make a crackling noise as she moved.

Elsa gasped. She was surrounded by a patch of frost, spiking jaggedly across the sheets and the floor. She tried to make it go away, but the more she worried about being discovered, the bigger the frozen area got, soon engulfing the wall and part of the bureau. After repeating her mantra several more times and taking deep breaths, she managed to pull the ice back in. Elsa felt cold to the core, which was odd because the cold never bothered her. She burrowed back into the sheets, tossing and turning, trying to get back to sleep. She did so, but didn't slumber very restfully.

Morning was a haze of fending off unfamiliar maids trying to bathe and dress her while insisting she could do it herself, trying strange foods for breakfast, and attempting to keep up with the busy schedule her aunt was rattling off for them today. She found that she quite liked fruit, which was not in abundance in Arendelle's frigid climate, apples in particular.

If she thought that it was difficult to keep up with Aunt Arianna _talking_ about the plan, then keeping up with her _executing it_ was even harder. Her pace was too brisk for Elsa's tiny legs and the guards that flanked them were making her anxious with their vigilance. What was everyone so afraid of?

First there was the seamstress, and Elsa held as still as a statue, repeating her mantra, trying desperately in her discomfort not to let the ice out or flinch away from the touch of the women taking her measurements and pinning things. She wore one of the new dresses out of the shop so she wouldn't boil in the heat in her heavy wool gown. It was a paler color than most of the fashions in Arendelle, a delicate blue. She found she quite liked the gentler coloring and the freedom of the lightness of the fabric.

Then there was a tour of the market, which was a riot of sound and color. She thought she could watch the whirl of the street dancers forever, but there was so much to see and they hurried on after one song. She loved the smells of the food stalls, the bright, bubbly excitement of the friendly atmosphere. People in Corona were much less... reserved than the people in Arendelle. They all seemed to wear their hearts on their sleeves, smiling not just politely, but like they were happy to see you. They reminded her of Anna. A whole country of people with her personality wouldn't be such a bad place to live, in Elsa's thinking.

Last, there was a visit to the orphanage. The queen explained that she had already promised to visit them today to read them a story and that she had needed to bring Elsa along so she wouldn't ever be out of her sight. Elsa sat to the side, watching.

Her aunt was a masterful storyteller. The pictures seemed to come alive with her voice. The story was some sort of swashbuckling adventure. Elsa hadn't caught the title, distracted by looking around the orphanage. Her parents would never have brought her here, too concerned about keeping her away from the public to let her meet any people outside the castle. She liked the story well enough, just wishing that the woman the main character loved had a more proactive role. Even with no skill, she could probably swing a branch at a gnome, right? She could at least be a distraction. It was, nevertheless, a good tale.

She noticed one boy in particular, not much older than her, was enraptured by the book. His brown eyes were wide and his face was tight with anticipation of what would come next. Most of the children cast the foreign princess curious glances, but the boy with the brown hair just stared intently at the queen telling the tale. When her aunt closed the book, Elsa was struck by an idea. She ran up to her aunt and whispered her request in her ear. The woman smiled and handed over the book, replying softly.

Elsa slipped through the dispersing crowd up to the boy and held the book out to him. He eyed her warily at first, then snatched the treasure from her hands, clutching it close to his chest.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"You're welcome. You looked like you were liking it, so I asked if we could give it to you. She said yes as long as you promise to share with any of the other kids who want to hear the story," Elsa explained.

"I will," he promised, an excited gleam in his eye. "Who are you? I thought the princess was lost."

"I'm Princess Elsa. I'm a different princess. I only just got to Corona yesterday. Who are you?"

"I'm Eu- er, Flynn. Flynn Rider," the boy answered haltingly, bowing a little.

Elsa hid a laugh behind her hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Flynn Rider. I hope we see each other again," she said, trying to look proper like a princess that people bowed to.

"Elsa, dear. Time to go!"

"Coming! Goodbye, Flynn," she said to the boy.

"Goodbye, Princess," he echoed with a wave as she departed.

The rest of the day was spent at the castle, and the next stop was the stables. Elsa watched in awe as the horses cantered around the circle, tossing their manes. In Arendelle, horses had closely cropped manes cut in fanciful patterns. None of this... free-flowing cascade of hair. Elsa fingered her own tight bun, glancing at her aunt, who wore her hair mostly down. Her mother always had her hair in a bun, but Elsa wasn't fond of how the strands were yanked back from her face, stretching the skin almost painfully. But she also didn't think she could stand having to brush her silvery locks out of her face all day, either. Maybe she could compromise, somehow. One of the overly helpful maids might have an idea.

A particular horse caught her eye. He was just a tiny colt, but he was galloping hard enough to keep pace with the much bigger horses. He was nearly all white, with gray on his nose and hooves. He had a look on his face like intense concentration. She could see he had a fire of determination in his soul, an intelligence in his eyes. She liked him immediately.

"Whose horse is that?" she asked her aunt, pointing.

"The little colt? That's Maximus. He belongs to the guard. He's training to work for the soldiers. Do you like him?" she asked.

"Yes, very much," Elsa replied.

"Well... his rider will have to know how to use a sword because he will have to be ready to ride into battle with someone swinging one from their seat on his back. He's not really a horse for pleasure riding or having as a pet," her aunt explained.

"Oh," she sighed, disappointed.

The queen bit her lip thoughtfully. "It wouldn't be terribly traditional, but I suppose if you were willing to learn how to use a sword, you could ride him. But the training wouldn't be easy and it might be a long time before the captain thinks you're ready. There are other horses if you don't want to go to the trouble..." she offered hesitantly.

"A princess using a sword? It's not- it isn't really done," Elsa stammered. But then she looked at the spirited little foal thundering over the grass and came to a decision. "But I would be willing to do it. I really want to ride Maximus. He's special."

"Are you certain? I can't promise that it will be safe," she fretted, seemingly on the verge of changing her mind.

Elsa thought about it. Was she certain? Her parents had stopped letting her ride after they discovered her magic, thinking it was unsafe. If she got spooked, she could startle the horse with her powers and it could throw her off. They would never agree to letting her learn how to use a sword. She was dangerous enough without pointy weapons. In a sparring match, her emotions might run high and she might accidentally unleash her abilities. But this overprotection felt stifling. Life without risks wasn't really life, was it?

"I think I've had rather enough of safe," Elsa answered confidently. "I want to do it. I promise I'll work hard and I'll do everything the captain says. Maximus is the only horse I want to ride. I'll do whatever it takes."

"Well, if you're absolutely committed, I don't suppose it's my place to stop you. Promise to be careful, though, alright?" her aunt requested.

"I promise."

Elsa stood at the railing of her bedroom balcony, staring out towards the harbor so different from the fjord port of Arendelle. She sighed deeply, letting frost creep into her breath and billow out in a small white puff. She smiled a small smile. It made her feel like a dragon, big and strong and capable of flying anywhere, doing anything. If she were a dragon, she could fly home. This new place was wonderful and bright, but she missed her old room and her old halls and the chilled air and her sister very much. The days here were just warm enough to be the slightest bit uncomfortable.

Even if she was a dragon, Elsa couldn't go home. She would still be a danger to Anna. No matter how beautiful Corona was or how nice the people were, it didn't feel like her own place yet. What if it never did? Her parents hadn't said how long she would stay. Would she remain until she came of age? She didn't belong at home because she was too dangerous. But she was a stranger here.

"Where _do_ I belong?" she sighed out into the night.

"Elsa, dear?" a voice called.

She whipped around, hands up, only to drop them when she saw her aunt. "Oh. Hello, Aunt Arianna. What brings you here?"

"I thought I would check on my niece after her first day in a new place," she smiled. "And by the looks of it, she's a little homesick."

"Maybe," Elsa admitted.

"I was homesick when I first came here, too, you know," she replied. "I may be the only person in Corona who truly understands how you're feeling right now."

"What do you mean?" Elsa asked.

"When I first arrived to study abroad, I hated it here. I kept thinking that nothing would be as good as Arendelle and I focused on how different life was here compared to home. I was a miserable wreck. Tutors, staff, and nobility alike fled from my sour, wrathful gloom," her aunt intoned.

"But you stayed. And now you're queen. What changed? What made it better?" Elsa prompted.

"I got tired of feeling sorry for myself. I stopped focusing on how Corona wasn't like Arendelle and started looking for things I liked about this country. For example, the raisin bread the castle baker makes. Or the flowers that only grow here in the warm climate. Or the handsome young prince who invited me to walk through the village with him and wouldn't let me have any peace until I agreed to marry him," she laughed. "Your uncle has always been a persistent one."

"So you thought about all the good things?"

"Yes, my dear girl. What are some good things that you like about Corona so far?" the queen asked, grabbing a brush from the nightstand and undoing Elsa's bun as she talked. She noticed that the girl stiffened but seemed to slowly relax as the conversation went on.

"Well... I like apples," the princess began, closing her eyes to imagine the rest of the list, concentrating on keeping calm while her aunt had her hands in her hair, too close to her dangerously icy skin.

"What else?" Arianna prodded as she brushed her niece's hair with long, gentle strokes.

"I like Maximus. And I like those bread things at breakfast, the round ones that aren't like rolls. What do you call those?"

"Biscuits," the queen replied. "What else?"

"I like the library. It's cozier than home. I like the market square with the dancing circle that spins around and around. I like the streets wind around and back instead of straight lines. I like the colors that people wear here, so much brighter than Arendelle. I like that there are little alcoves with random things like armor or flower vases scattered around the castle. I like butterflies. We don't have as many up north. And... that's all I can think of for now," Elsa said.

"Well, that's a good start. I'm sure you'll find more good things the more you explore," her aunt soothed, tying off her hair in a low ponytail with a white ribbon. "Goodnight, Elsa. Sleep well."

"Goodnight, Aunt Arianna."

Elsa went to bed that night thinking about a lot of things. Her new home, her upcoming sword lessons, the young Flynn Rider, and what Anna would think of all this. She had drafted a letter to her sister detailing her whole first day earlier that evening. She couldn't wait for the reply. Anna would love the part about swordfighting, and would probably find some way to learn without their parents finding out.

Elsa was so ready to start the next day. The sooner she learned what she needed to learn about being queen and about controlling her powers, the sooner she could go home.

A/N part II: I love Felsa so much. No disrespect to Rapunzel, but Elsa and Eugene are perfect for each other. There are literal pages of objectively correct analysis on why this is true available a quick google search away. My favorite reason is the parallel of both of them using masks to cover up their insecurities. For Eugene, it's his Flynn persona covering less than rosy background. For Elsa, it's a cold facade to keep people away and safe from her powers. I just love them together. Anyway, this fic is inspired by Elsa of Corona by **Constellations-of-Neverland** , but with hardcore shipping of these two.

I'm also probably going to involve the background of Eugene's last name. The prefix Fitz means "illegitimate" so his hatred of his name makes twice as much sense. Imagine having to introduce yourself "Hi! My name is So-and-so born out of wedlock." In older times, that was an even bigger deal than today, so it was humiliating. It will likely come up later, so you might want to remember it.

Rapunzel will show up later, but platonically. That's all. See you next chapter!


	2. Training Montage

A/N: Alas, I still own neither Tangled nor Frozen. Onwards and upwards!

Chapter 2: It's Time to See What I Can Do

It took seemingly forever to finish all her "princess lessons" before she could escape to her first sword practice. Absolutely hours of how to sit, speak, eat, stand, smile, wave, and so on. The academic lessons weren't as bad. Elsa found she actually liked astronomy and literature. The ladylike arts were challenging, though. Apparently, harp strings were more delicate than one would think. After the soon-to-be-infamous "Music Room Debacle," she slipped out through the chaos to the training ground.

She stood at the fence, watching the men swing blades at each other and at straw dummies. The younger ones were holding wooden practice swords. She watched the man who looked like he was in charge, probably the captain. He had a large and impressive moustache and a decorated helmet.

She had expected sword fighting to be wild slashing and hacking, but watching him spar with a newer recruit, it looked almost like a well-choreographed dance. There was complex-looking footwork and careful arcs and jabs of the blade. The captain easily pinned the younger man to the ground, sword at his throat. He then sheathed it and extended his hand to the downed soldier and helped him to his feet. The man walked off his defeat and went to rest in the corner of the training field. The captain turned and spotted her at the fence.

"You must be the foreign princess," he greeted. "Well, Your Highness. I hope you don't expect me to go any easier on you than my boys just because you're royal, tiny, and a girl."

"No, sir," she replied. "When can we get started?"

"Now. Get in here," he called, motioning with his hand.

Elsa scrambled under the fence and skidded to a halt in front of the tall man. He looked down at her with interest.

"Eager. That's good. Eager means it'll take you a little time before you quit. Maybe I can teach you something useful before you go."

"I won't quit," Elsa protested, head held high.

"No? Not when you've callouses on your pretty hands? Not when you get knocked down on your proper behind in the dirt by a stick of wood? Not when you're exhausted, sweaty, bleeding, or aching all over? You won't quit then?"

"No. I won't give up," she insisted, unbothered by the man's seeming lack of respect. She hadn't earned it yet.

"Alright, Your Highness. We'll start with your stance. Hold this," he said, handing her a wooden sword nearly as big as she was. She struggled to hold it up. "Now move your feet wider apart. Wider! Next time don't come in a skirt. Now bend your knees. Keep your center of gravity lower to the ground to keep your balance. Keep your elbows tight. Don't splay them out like a chicken's wings. Use both hands on the handle if you must, but keep your dominant hand on top. Don't look at your feet, look at me. Keep your weight on the balls of your feet. I said don't look down! Back straight! Now hold that position and breathe, in through the nose, out through the mouth," he barked the orders at her one after another.

She struggled to hold the heavy sword in position and remember all the directions. It was hard with the heat and the weight of all the soldiers' stares. Her muscles started trembling and drops of sweat rolled down her face and arms. She shifted her weight.

"Don't move, I said!" the captain reprimanded.

She stood like that for what felt like ages, but was probably only fifteen minutes. She fell down twice and got back up. When he told her she could relax, she fell again, sprawling on her back in the dirt. He loomed over her panting form, frowning.

"I am reluctantly impressed, Your Highness" he admitted. "I didn't think you'd make it this far."

"But I fell down. Twice. I'm not very good," she protested.

"Of course not," he snorted, "You've never held a sword in your life, not even a pretend one. You don't know a thing about it. Being good at something isn't a gift dropped in your lap. It takes hard work and practice. If you're willing to do that, then you will be good at this, someday."

He hauled her to her feet. She swayed for a moment, but managed to steady herself. The captain placed a smaller wooden sword in her hands.

"You ready for round two?" he asked with a raised eyebrow and a challenge in his voice.

"Born ready," Elsa panted, grinning.

They worked on form and control until dark. She never even got to swing her sword at a dummy because the captain said she wasn't ready. She sighed in the bath she'd asked to be drawn for her before bed. It might be a very long time before she could ride Maximus. She was struck by a sudden inspiration. That didn't mean she couldn't visit him, however. It was after dark, though. A time when she was supposed to stay inside. She'd have to be sneaky.

She dressed in one of her lighter-weight gowns in a darker color from home. She would blend in with the shadows better that way. She wore a hood to cover her pale hair. She snuck down to the stables and searched each stall until she spotted a familiar white coat. She slipped inside and called a soft hello. Maximus stepped up to her, chuffing gently. He sniffed her all over, tickling her face with his breath when he investigated her hair. She giggled.

His search stopped over her pocket. He nudged it with his nose, looking at her with pleading brown puppy-dog eyes. It took her a moment to realize what he wanted. She drew the apple from her skirts and held it out to him, palm up. She'd tucked it in her pocket at dinner, thinking to save it for later. Visiting the stables at night seemed to be a suitable definition of later, so she'd brought it with her.

"Is this what you want?" she whispered.

He answered by snapping up the apple and gulping it down in two bites. Elsa giggled again.

"You like apples? They're my favorite, too. I promise to bring you some more next time I see you. I don't have any more today," she apologized, stroking his nose and forelock.

She rubbed him all over, stroking his back and neck. He whinnied quietly, pressing up against her. He wasn't that much bigger than Elsa. He was young, like her, training in his own way, too. Her first friend in a new place, and it was a horse. She laughed silently at herself.

"My name's Elsa. You and I are going to be fast friends, aren't we?" she asked. The horse snorted in agreement. "Maximus. Can I call you Max for short?"

He nodded his head. She kept petting him and murmuring at him. Not much later, he stepped back with a yawn and laid down, settling into the hay.

"I guess it's your bedtime, huh? I ought to be getting back, too," Elsa whispered, slipping out of the stall and back up to her room.

Or that was the plan anyway. She was stopped in the hall on the way to her room by a frantic Queen Arianna.

"Elsa! Thank God you're safe. What happened? Where have you been?" she cried, reaching to embrace Elsa. At her subtle cringe, the queen stopped short, anxiety doubling.

"I- I was just at the stables. I wanted to see Maximus... I wasn't gone that long, was I?" she stammered.

"No," the queen sighed, wringing her hands. "It's just- ever since my daughter was stolen, I've been terrified that whoever took her will come back. I was so worried that you'd been kidnapped just like her. Given much more time, I'm sure I would have whipped the entire castle into a frenzy searching for you. I need you to promise me you'll never sneak off in the middle of the night without telling me again. Promise me!" she begged, eyes wild.

"I promise, Aunt Arianna. I won't sneak out again. I'm sorry I scared you," Elsa murmured guiltily.

She should have thought about her missing cousin before she pulled such a stunt. Of course her aunt would be protective of her, terrified when she disappeared from her room without a word. She got sent away for hurting her own family. The last thing she'd wanted was to do it again. It seemed she couldn't stop accidentally scaring her family to death. Princess Elsa of Arendelle, more like the princess of disaster.

"I'm sorry," she sighed again.

"It's alright, my dear girl. Just don't do it again. Gerda will show you back to bed."

In the morning, she had Gerda show her how to style her hair in a way that kept it out of her face without putting it in a severe bun. A French braid solved her problems and looked pretty as well. Breakfast was a bit tense thanks to last night, but she survived, slipping some extra apples into her skirt for Max.

Lessons today were about etiquette, mathematics, and embroidery. She did decently well at the first two, but her stitched flowers looked like balls of tangled yarn and her fabric sample was spotted with blood from all the times she jabbed herself with the needle. It seemed that the feminine arts were not for her.

At the training field, practice was just as brutal as it had been the day before. She was hammered until sundown again. In moments of frustration, it was difficult to keep the ice inside.

"You need to keep the point of your sword up and keep your eyes on the enemy while you're moving!" the captain barked.

"I'm trying!" she snapped back.

"Try harder!" he returned.

And so on. The one benefit of being so thoroughly exhausted was that she was too tired to dream.

A fortnight passed with the days passing in a similar manner and she got her first letter from Anna, gushing about how amazing sword practice must be and how she was still working on their guards to let her try it. She asked so many questions about what Corona was like and said over and over how much she missed her. Elsa tried and tried to start her reply, but she couldn't think of anything that didn't sound like complaining. She didn't want Anna to feel worse about their separation. She had to put down her quill anyway because it was time for sword training again. She reminded herself and her rough, aching hands that it was worth it to be Max's rider.

The captain had decided after all this time to let her swing at the dummy. At last! Elsa finally started to feel like she was making progress. She took her stance across from the dummy, but was distracted by a crowd of whispering well-dressed children at the fence. Not many people stopped to watch the guard train for long. What were they doing here? Her ears caught the words "soldier princess" followed by snickering. So they were here to gawk at her, then. Fantastic. That wasn't at all disruptive.

"Focus, Highness!" the captain hollered.

Her attention snapped back to the dummy in front of her. She corrected her stance and began attacking the straw man. Fine. They wanted a show? She would give them a show. But she kept making mistakes and the captain kept yelling at her, barking out corrections. Deep down, she knew he was just trying to teach her, help her, but she got angrier and angrier at his constant criticisms in front of the mocking nobles' children. She owed the woman in the story she'd given to Flynn Rider an apology. Swinging a wooden stick at something was much harder than it looked, especially under pressure. The cackles of the children were ringing in her ears and her skin started to cool rapidly.

 _Conceal, don't feel. Conceal, don't feel. Don't feel._

"Are you trying to stab this man or tickle him, Highness? Is that the best you've got? Put your weight into the swing. Not just the arms, the whole torso!" the captain called.

Elsa felt her rage harden and condense. She focused it into the edge of the wooden blade, feeling ice creep up the handle. With a bloodcurdling screech of pure anger, she swung the practice sword at the dummy so hard that she sliced its head off, sending it flying into the knot of nobles' children. The girls squealed and scuttled back like spiders. Shoulders heaving with her ragged breath, Elsa turned and fixed the brats with an icy glare, adjusting her grip on the sword. The young onlookers scattered in terror from her fierce gaze.

"Now, that's what I'm talking about! Good work, Highness! You might be ready to spar tomorrow," the captain praised.

"With real swords?" she ventured.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Highness. I think that's enough for today, so you've got the afternoon off. Use it wisely because I won't be this generous very often," he teased. "Dismissed."

Elsa didn't need to be told twice. She ran to her room to change out of her sweaty practice clothes, a simple tunic and trousers, and into her favorite blue dress. She just needed to get permission from her aunt and she could visit the city. Her aunt was somewhere in the castle that Elsa couldn't find her quickly, so she went to her uncle's study to ask him instead.

"Uncle Frederic?" she called, stepping into the king's study.

He looked up from a chessboard where he was apparently playing himself.

"Ah, Elsa, my dear. What brings you here? I thought you had sword practice about now," he greeted.

"Captain Renard let me leave early because I decapitated a dummy today. He says I might get to spar for the first time tomorrow. I came to ask if I could go into town since I have the afternoon off," Elsa explained.

"I don't see why not. Just take at least two guards with you, alright? You need to stay safe," he consented.

"Yes, Uncle Frederic. Um, by the way, why are you playing by yourself?" she wondered.

"It keeps me sharp. I get to practice attacking and defending and anticipating all of an opponent's possible moves. It's good for strategy. Maybe someday you can play with me so I'll have a flesh and blood opponent, eh?" he suggested warmly.

"I think I'd like that. You'll have to sneak me out of poise lessons, first, though," she replied with a smile.

He chuckled and wished her well on her afternoon of freedom. The first place Elsa went was the dance circle, but she stood on the side for a long time, too shy to join in. Suddenly, something dropped onto her head, causing her to emit a startled squeak. She removed the object and examined it. It was a flower crown, in blue and yellow and white. It was lovely, but where had it come from?

"Need a partner, Princess?" a voice asked from behind her.

She spun around, spotting the boy from her first day there, grinning and offering her a hand.

"Flynn," she said with a smile. "Was that you who put this on my head?"

"A crown for a princess. Seemed fitting," he shrugged.

"Where did this come from?" she asked, placing it back in her head.

"I may have borrowed it," he drawled, affecting an innocent expression.

"You stole it?" Elsa gasped, appalled.

"No, I said borrowed. If it bothers you so much, we can return it before you go back to the castle," he told her.

"Alright. It stays, for now, since it was a sweet gesture, but we're returning it later. And no more stealing, promise?" she asked, trying to sound like a future queen.

He grinned at her and bowed gallantly. "As you wish, Princess. So, how about that dance?" he reminded, extending a hand to her.

She found herself reaching for his hand before she remembered herself and pulled back. It wasn't safe for him.

"I- I couldn't," she stammered. Seeing his face fall, she hurried to correct herself. "Oh, no! It's not you. It's just-" she struggled to think of an excuse with some truth in it. "Well, I only know how to waltz, and I'm not very good at that, even. I'd just step on your toes."

His brilliant grin returned, and she found she couldn't resist that ridiculous confident smirk he was making. "Well, if that's the only problem, then no need to worry. If you never try something for the first time, you'll never learn. And my toes can take it."

Despite every reason she shouldn't- the warm climate meant no gloves- she accepted his hand and let him lead her into the circle just as the next reel was beginning. His palm was warm and calloused, but the sensation of holding another person's hand for the first time in forever was still surprisingly pleasant. She moved hesitantly at first, afraid of losing her grip on the magic, but as he spun and guided her like an expert, she let herself relax and whirl around to the beat. When the music picked up speed, she did indeed step on his toes, but he laughed it off, saying she was too tiny to do much damage. He was almost a full head taller than her. How had she not noticed that the first time they met? Unlike the captain, his instructions and corrections were gentle and encouraging. She was disappointed when the song ended.

Seeing her pout, he laughed. "You know we could just go around again, right? I've got time."

They danced together twice more, then collapsed on a low wall, laughing. The guards watched from a small distance, out of earshot, but positioned so Elsa was in their line of sight at all times.

"I don't think I've ever had that much fun," Elsa gasped.

"Being a princess must not be as great as people think it is, then," he teased.

"No! That's not it. I'm grateful for everything I have, the opportunities," Elsa protested. "I just- there's a lot expected of me is all. Not much time for fun. This is the first real break I've had in two weeks."

"No, I get it. Being royal doesn't mean you don't have any problems. You just have different problems than the rest of us," he dismissed amicably. "So what's kept you so busy? I don't know much about the inner workings of castles."

"Mostly lessons. There's a lot of boring stuff like posture and knowing which spoon to use for soup. The worst is all of the 'ladylike arts.' I'm terrible at all of them. I can't sew or play music or anything like that. But there interesting ones, too. Languages and history and science. Oh, and I'm training with the guard. I took the head off a dummy today," Elsa announced proudly.

"Ouch. Were they able to put the poor guy's melon back on, Warrior Princess? I mean, if he was a dummy, he wasn't really using it much, but I'm sure he'd still miss it," Flynn joked.

"No, a _straw_ dummy, Flynn," the princess laughed. "And I'm no warrior. Today is the first time I've managed to do anything right, and I only managed it today because I wanted those smug children of the nobility to shut up and stop laughing at me," she confessed.

"Who would laugh at the princess?" Flynn asked.

"Meanies. But I'm not _their_ princess, not really. I'm just a stand in from another country," Elsa sighed.

"Hey, that doesn't mean they can make fun of you. And don't worry about the swords. I think it's cool you're even trying. Give it time. You'll strike fear into the hearts of your enemies yet, Princess" he assured her.

"Thank you, Flynn. I'm sorry. I've been complaining to you when you probably don't want to hear it or have somewhere else to be," she apologized.

"I don't mind. That's what friends are for," he shrugged.

"Friends? Are we friends?" Elsa asked, trying to hide her excitement.

"I thought so. I mean you gave me a book, danced with me, and shared personal information. I just sort of assumed..."

"No! I mean, yes! I'm just happy to have my first friend besides a horse," Elsa admitted.

"A horse?"

"Maximus. He's the reason I'm training to wield a sword. His rider is going to have to know how to use one since he's going to ride with the guard. It's hard work, but I like feeling like I'm accomplishing something. I sneak him apples when I visit the stables," Elsa said.

"Well, I'm proud to be your first human friend. I'm glad I ran into you today," he said with a smile.

"Me, too," Elsa echoed. "Flynn-"

"Princess Elsa! It's getting dark. The king requested that we escort you back to the castle by sundown," one of her guards interrupted.

"I suppose I'd better go," she lamented. "I'll see you soon?"

"You can count on it, Princess. Hey, what's Arendellian for goodbye?" he asked.

"Why?"

"I thought you might be missing Arendelle, and maybe hearing your first language from time to time might make here feel more like home," Flynn suggested.

Elsa smiled at the thoughtful gesture. " _Farvel_ ," she answered. "That's how you say goodbye in Arendellian."

"Then, _farvel_ , my lady," he said with a gallant bow.

" _Farvel_ , my thief," Elsa replied with a shy curtsey.

On the long walk back up the winding streets, Elsa couldn't help but think she now had a couple good things to write Anna about, not the least of which being a sweet orphaned boy who was doing his best to make her feel less lonely and homesick.

She realized only when she had put it on her nightstand that she had forgotten to return the flower crown.

A/N: So, Arendellian is straight-up Norwegian from either Google translate or Wikipedia. Coronan is probably closer to German, but for our purposes is understood as English. Fair warning: there will be unbelievable amounts of Felsa fluff. There are just too many golden opportunities to not take advantage of them. That's all for now, readers.


	3. Friendship :D

A/N: Yes, this chapter is yet another bit of lyric from a Tangled or Frozen song. Yes, every chapter will be that way. I still don't own either Tangled or Frozen. Onwards and upwards!

Chapter 3: I Think Some Company Is Overdue

Elsa worked at swordplay for another three months before Captain Renard even considered letting her hold a real one. The days were busy, filled with lessons and training and writing to Anna as often as the ships from Arendelle came in, about every week or so. The princess lessons were still fairly boring, but they were getting easier. She was still quite bad at most of the "ladylike" pursuits she had been forced to try, but the instructor had finally let her try sketching and that was something she had a knack for. She liked drawing buildings, people, and dresses the best. Master Preminger promised that if she kept at some of the other harder feminine arts, he would teach her painting next week.

She was embracing her favorite academic subjects, enjoying the study of poetry and the stars and the natural world. Botany didn't go very well, since even though she liked plants, her unnatural perpetual chill was dangerous to them if she stayed close for too long.

She had also been learning strategy from her uncle in the form of chess. He seemed delighted to have a partner to play with. In the evenings, after dinner, when she was confined to the castle by the absence of the sun, they would move the pieces by lamplight and King Frederic would lecture her about strategy.

"Now, the queen is the most powerful piece on the board. Never, ever sacrifice her unless you have a foolproof trap laid out for when the other fellow goes for the bait. But don't underestimate the pawns, either. The mistake most people make is that they see them as expendable and tend to forget their presence entirely. But with only two of them, you can immobilize a king from the right position," he said during the game they played the evening before the captain would pronounce her ready to hold a steel blade.

She was getting better, but she hadn't beaten him yet. During many of these evenings, she noticed him about to reach for her hand or arm and pull himself short with a furrowing of his brow. Her aunt also frequently stopped herself in the middle of trying to embrace Elsa or place a guiding hand at her elbow. She hated that she couldn't let them touch her when that was clearly what they wanted to do: to hold their niece or put a reassuring hand on her shoulder or make any contact at all. Elsa felt like maybe she was making them feel like it was them specifically that she didn't want touching her. It was only for their own safety, but she couldn't tell them that, that they hadn't done anything wrong.

She saw Flynn as often as she could, which wasn't often enough. She only had a handful of free afternoons those months. But whenever she came, he popped up not long after she arrived without her having to go anywhere near the orphanage. It was like he had foreknowledge of where she would be on any day she came to town. She'd be looking at a stall that sold hair ribbons, turn around, and see him leaning on the apple cart, grinning at her like she'd brought him the moon. A girl could get used to someone like Flynn Rider looking at her that way.

Then he'd stroll up, maybe bow, maybe tip an imaginary hat, and say, " _Hallo_ , Princess." using the word she taught him for "hello" in Arendellian. Then they'd sit or stroll together, talking or playing or just enjoying companionable silence. She taught him more of her language, teasing him that he'd sound like a native in no time. He talked about the harrowing chores at the orphanage sometimes, but he never complained, typically sticking to topics that had nothing to do with his current life or his earlier childhood. She talked about lessons, especially sword training, and Max. Sometimes home, but she avoided that like he avoided talking about the orphanage. They were both living their own heavily edited versions of reality.

Elsa won the right to hold a real sword sparring with the captain with wooden ones. She managed, after weeks of trying, to finally land a significant blow and knock him off his feet. For a small girl of only ten years, it was quite the accomplishment, and Captain Renard thought that it ought to be rewarded. Thus, she was having a real sword made for her that fit her size. Her aunt and uncle were picking the design, so she would be surprised. She hoped it was at least a little like the one she'd drawn up the other day.

Of course, the first thing she did upon hearing this good news was ask for the rest of the day off to go tell Flynn. The captain granted it to her, and the guards assigned to her protection had to run to keep up as she dashed for the town. She couldn't wait for Flynn to do that mysterious appearing thing he always did, so she made a beeline for the orphanage. He was stepping out and turning the corner when she got there. Forgetting her no-touching rule and her princess behaviors in her excitement, she all but tackled him in a hug.

"Um, _hallo_ , Princess. What brings you to my fine abode this afternoon?" he asked, awkwardly returning the hug in surprise.

His trademark charm snapped her out of it and she shot back, looking him over anxiously to see if he was alright. He didn't look even the slightest bit chilled, so that was a relief.

 _But I'll have to be more careful in the future_ , she chided herself.

"Flynn! Sorry about that. I just have the most exciting news!" she announced breathlessly.

"You've decided to accept my proposal of marriage?" he asked with a wry grin.

He teased her like this often enough, so she wasn't really phased. She was too keyed-up to let it so much as make her blush today.

"What? No. I finally get to use a real sword!" she declared.

"Wait. Really? Elsa, that's great!" Flynn praised. "When?"

"Tomorrow. I spar with the captain again, with real swords. They're making one just my size. I'm so excited!" the young princess gushed.

"I'm proud of you, Princess. I wish I could see the look on Mr. Moustache's face when you beat him," Flynn said.

"Well, why can't you?"

"What?"

"I think that with an official invitation from a princess, they'll let you in at the gate to come see me practice," Elsa speculated happily.

"How will they know I'm not lying?" Flynn worried.

"Hmm. Oh! I know! Johann, Marius?" she called to her guards.

At this point, she knew all the names of the guards that rotated through the job of watching her. They hurried over to her, saluting.

"Yes, Your Highness?" Johann asked.

"Who's working the gate tomorrow?" she inquired.

"That would be Quinn and me, Your Highness," Marius answered.

"Excellent. Then could you tell Quinn and any others you might come across that this young man," she began, pointing to the boy, "Flynn Rider, is my guest and should be escorted to the practice ring to see me tomorrow afternoon?"

"Absolutely, Your Highness," Marius promised.

"Excellent. You may return to your posts, please," she instructed. When they had retreated, she said to Flynn, "So that's taken care of. My best friend gets to see me fight a grown man tomorrow! I usually start practice around five o'clock, so show up a little early so you don't miss anything."

"Wow. Me, at the castle. What would all the other street rats think?" he joked.

"Flynn. You know I don't think a thing less of you because of your status or your birth," Elsa scolded. "Don't you?"

"Of course, Princess. I'm just nervous. I've never been to the castle before. What if I embarrass myself?" he fretted.

"All you need to do is show up, announce your name, and stand at a fence and watch me swing a pointy object at someone. It's not like you need to know how to greet foreign diplomats or hold the salad fork _just so_ ," she reassured him with a roll of her eyes. "Just be you. I like that boy well enough."

"You're not so bad yourself, Princess," he said with a smirk.

Flynn showed up to the gates the next day at a quarter till five, wearing his best clothes. That meant he'd borrowed the cleanest pieces in best repair from kids of the same size and put them on. He swallowed nervously when the imposing armored soldier asked him to state his name and business. His face was unfamiliar, so he wasn't one of the ones that rotated Elsa duty. He'd never seen Flynn before. What if he didn't let him in? Elsa would think he stood her up. He still didn't understand what insecurities she had that made her think anybody in their right mind would stand her up, but he knew he just had to get in.

He stammered, "F- flynn R -rider, here to s- see Princess Elsa of Arendelle's sp- sparring match."

He had already drafted half a plan to scale the walls when the guard answered with a gruff, "Go on in. Head up the west path and turn right at the stables. That's where the training yard is."

Flynn stammered a thank you and scurried in the direction of the stables. He stood at the fence, watching anxiously for Elsa. When she emerged from the castle, he sucked in a breath. He'd only ever seen her in her dresses. He liked the blue one, but he could really get behind this tunic-and-leggings look, too. Elsa, clad in trousers and holding a sword was so different from the shy, easily-flustered princess he so liked to tease. It was a good different, but still. She spotted him and waved, dashing over.

"Flynn! It's so good to see you. I'm glad you could make it."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Princess. Knock him dead, figuratively, of course," Flynn joked.

"No promises," she teased back. "But look! It's the sword I designed exactly. My aunt and uncle must have seen the sketch and taken it to the blacksmith. Look at the inscription."

Flynn peered at the blade. The words were in Arendellian. " _D'er mange ǿksarhogg, som eiki skal fella_ ," he pronounced carefully. "I recognize some of these words, but not enough. What does it say?"

"Roughly, 'Little strokes fell great oaks.' Oddly, it rhymes in Coronan and not Arendellian. It fits me perfectly doesn't it?" she queried.

"Yes, it does. Go get him, Princess," Flynn encouraged, nodding his head in the direction of the field, where the captain was taking his spot in the sparring ring. At her nervous glance, he assured her, "You'll do great, Elsa."

She hardened her expression and nodded, squaring her shoulders and striding over to the ring. She drew her blade and settled into her stance. A lieutenant called start and the princess and the captain of the guard crashed together to the tune of ringing steel. Flynn wasn't the only spectator. A bunch of people came to watch Elsa fight, but unlike him, they came expecting to see her lose. He silenced those nearest him with a stony glare and focused back on Elsa.

She was good. Really good. She twirled with a dancer's grace around swipes, dodging easily. She flew around like a sparrow, swift and light, her blade a flurry of movement that her larger opponent just managed to deflect. The captain disarmed her and Flynn got worried about her safety, but she just rolled back, grabbing her fallen sword, and popped up into a fighting stance. The captain seemed to take this as a cue to stop holding back.

His blade hammered her tiny one harder and harder until all her energy went into deflecting blows and she couldn't spare a second to try and strike back. She found an opening and went for it, tearing the captain's sleeve, but it was a trap and the captain's sword slid past her distracted defenses. She hit the dirt, head smacking into the ground, and when Flynn saw a smear of red on her leg, his heart stopped.

The captain sheathed his sword and crouched down beside Elsa to check on her. At the concerned look that took over his normally stoic face, Flynn lost all sense and ducked the fence, ignoring the cries of protest from various people, sprinting to the fallen form of his best friend. He fell to his knees at her side and clutched her hand like a drowning man to a lifeline. Her eyes were closed, face slack. She was too still.

"Princess?" he croaked. "Elsa? ELSA!" he screamed, voice breaking.

At last, her eyes fluttered open. "Flynn? What... what happened?"

"You got hit. Are you okay? How bad does it hurt? Do you need a doctor?" he rambled frantically.

"Flynn. Stop mothering me. I'm fine. My leg's a little sore, but I'm not bleeding to death. I'll need help to get to the infirmary, though," she groaned, sitting up.

She noticed him crushing her hand and gently pried it loose with a gentle squeeze and an apologetic smile.

"I know, I know. The touching thing. But you'll have to temporarily get over that so I can carry you to the doctor," Flynn reminded her.

"Alright. You can be my knight in shining armor this one time, but don't forget that I don't need you to save me. I'm no damsel in distress," she huffed. "I can take care of myself."

"There was never any doubt," Flynn placated. "Now, come on, Princess. Let's get that leg looked at."

He scooped her up bridal-style over her protests that she could walk and carried her all the way to the castle infirmary, directed by a very apologetic Captain Renard. Elsa was benched from practice for two weeks while her leg healed. She argued vehemently, but she relented as long as Flynn could come over and visit during her usual practice time so she wouldn't go stir-crazy. Flynn mentally planned out how to get everything done before afternoon so he could come without getting in trouble for ducking his chores. More time with Elsa was worth any punishment anyway, but there was no point in collecting bruises from the whipping stick that she might notice and ask about.

Her family agreed, and the next weeks were awesome. He got to see Elsa every single day. They sat on the king and queen's balcony, looking at the sunset, talking, playing cards, teaching each other things. Her contributions were mostly languages, especially Arendellian. His were more along the lines of knot-tying and lock-picking, but she listened to him explain those things like it was the most important knowledge ever imparted.

Nobody ever listened to him like that. That was why he liked Elsa so much. Even though she was a princess, she made him feel like someone worth knowing, like he _mattered_. To a kid with nothing, hearing about the imperfect life of a girl with everything and having her like spending time with him was the best thing he'd ever experienced. Plus, she was smart, funny, and tough. She gave as good as she got when he teased her. Other girls just... weren't like that.

Near the end of the two weeks, they were sitting on the balcony and he mentioned how he was sad that he wouldn't get to visit every day. "I've gotten used to the sight of your face" was the way he put it. Elsa got a crazy idea.

"How old are you?" she asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Twelve and a half. Why?" he questioned, bewildered at the subject change.

"How long until your birthday?" she persisted, not answering.

"Not quite two months. Again, why?" he repeated.

"The castle lets people start working here at thirteen. After your thirteenth birthday, you could come apprentice here. You'd be so close and I could see you all the time! Think about it. It's the perfect plan," she persuaded.

"What job would I have? Would they even hire me?"

"After your valiant 'rescue' of me on the training field when I screwed up my first time holding a real sword? My family loves you. I think they'd hire you for basically any job you want, if not give you a knighthood," Elsa declared.

"The sword fight wasn't your fault. You'd have to have trained since birth to beat a guy of his size and experience at age ten. You'll get him when you have a little more training and get a little taller," Flynn insisted.

"So what job do you want?" Elsa deflected.

"I want to make things," Flynn answered, letting her get away with the subject change this time. "Carpentry, blacksmithing, something like that."

"Consider it done. In just under two months, you can apply and we can see each other all the time. Maybe by then I'll be able to do decently in the ring and you won't have to shout me back to consciousness," she chuckled.

"I look forward to attending that match, Princess. And getting to enjoy your lovely company every day," he added, eliciting a blush from her.

That was never going to get old.

Elsa walked down to the practice ring early the next morning, the only time she had free, hoping to warm up a bit before afternoon practice so she wouldn't get her rusty butt handed to her _too_ quickly. But she found she had company. Captain Renard stood in the middle of a circle of straw dummies. He was slowly moving his sword through the air, not putting force behind it, just moving the blade in a controlled manner, breathing evenly, eyes closed. Then, they flew open and he sliced the sword quickly in a blur of motion, breathing in the same calm rhythm. He swung at the dummies, but he only took the thinnest slices of fabric off, less than a pinkie width.

"What are you doing?" Elsa asked when he finished.

"Simgumdo. It's a Korean technique that focuses on meditation and control rather than combat. I learned it fighting overseas. It's good for focus," the captain explained. "It's not something that can be practiced when everything's all busy, so I come out here early."

"What does it help focus?"

"Anger. Aggression. That sort of thing," he replied.

"But I thought the point of fighting was to control those emotions," Elsa expressed, confused.

"It is."

"I don't understand. If you're focusing on it, you're not squashing it down or pushing it out. How is that control?" Elsa inquired, puzzled.

"Highness, what you're talking about isn't control. That's suppression, and it isn't healthy. No. Control is about focusing that rage into something productive through concentration. Like you did when you took the head off that dummy. Those stupid kids were making you mad, and I was yelling at you, and you turned that anger and frustration into force behind your swing and obliterated that scarecrow," he recounted.

"So... your... sim gumdo isn't about releasing aggression. It's about using it to turn your emotions to your advantage," Elsa guessed.

"Exactly. Control, not suppression. It's much easier to shape rage into something productive than get rid of it entirely. Mad and scared, they're big emotions, and they're the most common ones to have in a fight," the captain began. "You can't just wrestle them into submission while you're wrestling a guy into submission. You can't fight opponents on the inside and the outside at the same time. You have to make the opponents on the inside work _with_ you to beat the opponent on the outside. Ignoring your emotions doesn't make you any better at handling them when they pop up. You can't just order yourself or the men under you not to feel what they're feeling. To be able to work with or work around the feelings, you have to practice dealing with them when they happen. Like any skill, self-control takes effort and repetition. This odd-looking meditation stuff helps with that. Do you understand?"

Elsa thought that, for the first time, she really did understand. "Conceal, don't feel" wasn't helping not because she wasn't trying hard enough, but because it wasn't the right way in the first place. She couldn't just stop her emotions. They were part of being human. She had to learn how to control them instead of pushing them away. If her emotions were as connected to her powers as they seemed, then controlling her emotions was the first step to controlling her magic. And controlling her magic was the only way she'd ever be able to go home, to let her family touch her... or Flynn, for longer than a few dances. That made the decision easy. She looked back up at the captain and commanded in a determination-hardened voice:

"Teach me."

A/N: Okay! Great chapter. Also, I know Simgumdo wasn't developed until the 1960's. Arendelle isn't really Norway. Sue me. Anyway, stay tuned for Felsa misadventures. Hugs, Me.


	4. Sing-song time

A/N: You know the drill. I own neither Tangled nor Frozen. Onwards and Upwards!

Chapter 4: The Cold Never Bothered Me Anyway

Elsa's days grew even longer with the addition of the morning meditation with the captain, but it was worth it for the control she was gaining over her powers. When she got upset or frustrated, it was easier not to freeze everything. By the time the two months until Flynn's birthday were up, she felt like she knew the routine well enough to meditate by herself. She typically used her balcony. It didn't have the space that the training field did, but it was more private so she could incorporate her powers into it. She'd made constructs before, so she thought creating an ice sword to practice with would be easy, but it would take her several weeks to get the balance right. Oh well. That was the point of practice, anyway.

On Flynn's birthday, she asked for the afternoon off, and the captain, hearing that it was about Flynn, was uncharacteristically generous with time off. Elsa supposed that Captain Renard still felt respect towards Flynn for helping her that day. She walked into town, picking up her package from the bookstore on the way to see Flynn. She stopped by the circle where he usually found her, looking around. Even with her vigilance, he managed to do that thing where he popped up behind her too close for comfort.

" _Hallo,_ Princess," he whispered in her ear.

She spun around with a smile on her face. "Flynn! Happy Birthday," she said, offering him the rectangular object covered in light blue paper and tied with a white ribbon.

He looked at the object pressed into his hands and back up at her excited face. "You got me a present? I thought the job was the present," he admitted.

"Of course not!" Elsa laughed. "Work doesn't count as a present. It's your birthday, so I got you a little something. I know how you feel about extravagant things, so it's simple and not overly opulent. I hope you like it."

"Any gift from you is a treasure, Princess," Flynn charmed with his signature smirk.

"Open it, already!" she commanded, bouncing on her toes.

Flynn carefully untied the ribbon and tucked it in his pocket, then tore through the paper that reminded him of her favorite dress and her sky-colored eyes. The package was revealed to be a book, a thicker volume than the first she'd given him, bound in green and white leather, titled in neat silvery script: _The Goose Girl_. Flynn flipped through the pages, glancing at the colorful illustrations. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Elsa.

"A princess has to outrun a coup and hide disguised as a servant in plain sight in a foreign kingdom while she works to not only stay alive, but prove that she is the true princess that was sent to marry their prince. She discovers an ability to speak to animals and wind, falls in love, and leads a group of commoners against the traitors to her country. She learns during her time as an animal worker tending the king's geese how to understand and lead the people that she wasn't born to, but ended up choosing. I always liked the story, and I thought you might, too," Elsa explained.

"It's about a princess," he informed her skeptically.

"But it has all the qualities of an interesting story: Action, magic, adventure, romance! I believe you'll like it more than you expect," Elsa insisted.

"Like I said, I like anything that comes from you. I'll give the book a chance," Flynn agreed.

"So what else would you like to do on your birthday?" Elsa asked him, rocking back on her heels.

"We haven't danced since the first time, you know. I think that would be a great way to commemorate another year of being alive," he announced, offering her an elbow.

She ignored it with a roll of her eyes and led the way, leaving Flynn loping to catch up. When he offered her a hand at the dancing circle, she had to remind herself that she was safer now before she could take it, but they had a wonderful evening spinning to the tune of the fiddle. Having Elsa in his arms for hours made for the best birthday he'd had in forever.

The next day, Flynn went to interview for a job and was placed with the blacksmith when he showed some aptitude for metalcraft. He tried carpentry, hoping to one day make shipwright, but a small accidental fire smothered any chance he had of getting that assignment. Who knew without being told how much linseed oil to shine the wood was _too_ much? Not Flynn, apparently.

When there was no work for him at the forge, he was sent where he was needed elsewhere in the castle. It was in this manner that he picked up an abundance of assorted skills. He could make stew, fix a leaky basin, drive a nail, repair his own socks, pick out the best produce from a bushel, and a host of other bits and bobs. He liked learning new things, especially to do with his new trade, but routine made him restless at first. The only good part about the repetitive schedule was that Elsa had one, too. That meant that they always got to see each other for a guaranteed amount of time every day, plus any extra they could sneak in.

They liked the times around lunch best, when they could slip away to a corner of the castle grounds with a sack of food to share. They would enjoy each other's company in silence, or talk about things, or try to make each other laugh. Flynn won at that last task most times, but she couldn't help the lightness she felt around him.

It wasn't long after he started working there that an incident during one of their picnics led to Elsa having to endure the spotlight at royal functions many times in the future. They were reclining after a meal of cold roasted chicken, warm bread, and plums in what they thought was a secluded corner of the garden. Elsa was distracted from her sketching of a new building design when Flynn drew out a mandolin from the bushes and gave it a skillful strum.

"When did you learn to play the mandolin?" Elsa spluttered, watching his fingers wandering expertly over the strings. "Where did you even get a mandolin?"

"I borrowed it. And an old homeless man who didn't have a thing to his name other than his instrument taught me in exchange for what food I could smuggle out of the orphanage. I asked to learn because I heard somewhere that the ladies swoon for musicians. Was I right?" he flirted with a cheeky tilt of his head.

"You're incorrigible, is what you are," Elsa laughed. "Do you know any actual songs, my thief?"

"A few. My favorite is 'If You Love Me for Me,' an old Irish ballad. The Irish know a thing or two about good lyrics," he informed her in a tone like he was imparting essential wisdom.

"I know that one! I like it very much as well," Elsa confessed. "Will you play it for me?"

"Well, I'll tell you what, Princess. I'll strum if you sing. Do we have a deal?"

"You've never even heard me sing," she protested. "I could be terrible."

"I have a feeling that's not the case," he prompted, strumming the first chord to the song.

It would be easier to go ahead and give him what he wanted. Her voice was decent enough.

"Oh, all right. You win," Elsa sighed in defeat.

She took a steadying breath as Flynn played the introduction and joined her voice with that of the mandolin, shakily at first, then louder and more confident.

 _Once a lass met a lad... 'You're a gentle one,' said she._

 _In my heart, I'd be glad... if you loved me for me._

 _You say your love is true and I hope that it will be..._

 _I'd be sure if I knew... that you loved me for me._ (Flynn)

Here, Flynn added his voice to hers for the male parts of the duet. She was pleasantly surprised that he had a warm, rich tenor cadence that sounded quite nice to her ears. She smiled and felt herself relax as she continued.

 _Could I be the one you're seeking... WilI be the one you choose?_

 _Can you tell my heart is speaking... My eyes will give you clues..._

 _What you see may be deceiving... Truth lies underneath the skin..._ (Flynn)

 _Hope will blossom by believing... The heart that lies within..._

Flynn sang alone for the next stanza.

 _I'll be yours..._

 _Together, we shall always be as one..._

 _If you love me for me..._

Elsa picked up the next part and he wove the words of his refrain underneath them.

 _Who can say... where we'll go?_

 _(I'll be yours...)_

 _Who can promise what will be?_

 _(Together... We shall always...)_

 _But I'll stay... by your side..._

 _(Be as one...)_

They sang the final line twice in unison.

 _If you love me for me..._

 _If... you... love... me... for... me..._

They had barely the space of a second to appreciate the sound of the last note ringing through the air and exchange fond smiles before they were interrupted by a shout.

"Bravo, Your Highness!" a voice called from beyond the hedge. Master Preminger hurried into view, beaming. "You have an incredible voice! I never broached singing in our instruction on the ladylike arts because it requires a certain natural aptitude and you seemed to have trouble with the other subjects," he babbled. "But you truly have a gift. We will begin instruction on technique at once!"

"Does this mean I won't have to do embroidery anymore?" Elsa hazarded with a surprised blink.

"If you can hone and refine your God-given vocal ability, I swear that there will never be a need for you to attempt a single stitch ever again," her normally composed instructor gushed. "Report to the music room immediately once your lunch break is over."

Once he was out of earshot, she glared at Flynn. "Did you know he was there?"

"Of course not! I know you don't like to be the center of attention. If I had noticed him there, I would have said something to avoid you getting sucked into something like this," he swore.

"I know," she sighed. "I believe you wouldn't do something like that to me. Now I'll probably have to participate in concerts and the like. How did you not notice him, anyway? You're usually so aware of your surroundings."

"I- ah, was distracted. I was having too much fun singing with you," he admitted sheepishly.

"Oh. I see," she coughed, blushing. "Well, since that cat is out of the proverbial bag, why don't we enjoy another tune before I get dragged off to singing class?"

"With pleasure, Princess," he agreed, already picking out the beginnings of the next ditty.

A few months in, after he'd already established himself as a hard worker and a good kid, he would "rescue" her from boring lessons to go participate in some harebrained scheme he'd cooked up. There was the horse race that ended up with them both in the pond and sent to bed with colds to recover for over a week. They missed each other terribly during the time of quarantine. Then there was the time that an attempt to get fresh apples left Flynn with dozens of bee stings and Elsa without one half of her favorite pair of slippers. They got the apples, though. The time when they tried to tame and train the birds from the falconry involved more running than any of the others combined. They sledded down the stairs on shields, turned all of the tongues of Elsa's tutors green without them noticing by tampering with the tea, dressed a statue of a general in a gown and tiara, painted all the pigs with blue polka-dots, and everything else you could think of and some things you couldn't in the next three years together.

The two made the perfect team, were utterly inseparable, and trusted each other entirely. Flynn was the only one in Corona who knew about Elsa's ice powers. How that came about was on Flynn's fourteenth birthday, when he said all he wanted was for Elsa to try running the rooftops with him. He assured her that it was perfectly safe over and over, finally getting her to agree to go as long as she could wear her sword training uniform. Skirts were not the best for climbing in.

Elsa had made a lot of progress with swordsmanship in that year. She had yet to defeat Captain Renard, but she had bested a few of the other, less experienced men. Hand-to hand combat had been added to her regimen, and she was picking up boxing decently well. Anna had actually beat her to the punch in developing that skill by going around the guard and just asking some village boys how to street brawl. She taught some tricks to Flynn so he could defend himself when he would inevitably get in trouble someday. His sharp tongue was all but a guarantee that he'd need to be able to handle himself in a fight.

She had finally been permitted to ride Max and took advantage of that as often as possible. They had an almost telepathic connection in how well they worked together. She missed her faithful steed sorely at the moment she was balanced on the eaves of the palace roof.

"This is an awful idea," she admonished for the tenth time.

"No, I promise it will be fun. Just let me have this on my birthday," Flynn pleaded, giving her that pout she always gave in to.

"I don't understand why you'd rather have this than a new book, or a better pair of boots, or..."

"Those are just things," Flynn dismissed. "Time with you is infinitely more valuable, Princess."

"Alright," she sighed, hiding a blush. "Here goes everything."

The two started slowly, Flynn calling encouragement and advice to Elsa from just behind her, hands always inches from grabbing her if she should slip. Once she had the hang of it, they moved faster and faster, increasing the pace until they were flying over the shingles with excited whoops. Flynn drew even with Elsa, peeking at her expression of wonder and thrilling excitement. The beauty of her face in that moment of pure childhood adrenalin rush, not worrying for two seconds about behaving like a future queen, took his breath away and made him miss a step.

He made a strangled noise and flailed his arms, trying desperately to catch his balance. Elsa heard his distress and spotted the cause, face going white as a sheet. She scrambled towards him, stretching her hands out for him frantically.

"Flynn!" she choked.

Her fingers just missed the collar of his shirt and he felt his feet leave the roof. The only thing under his back was empty air, and above him he could see Elsa leaning over the edge, clinging to the gutter and reaching one arm towards him, a look of pure terror consuming her features. If the last thing he saw was his best friend in the world, that wasn't a bad way to go. Suddenly, a streak of blue light shot from Elsa's fingertips and past him at the ground. He scarcely had the time to be confused or startled before he slammed into the hard ground... or what should have been the hard ground. Instead of the sharp crack of bones snapping on stone, there was a soft whump as he was engulfed in a pile of fluffy coldness.

 _Snow?_

He blinked the stars from his eyes. He wasn't hurt. Was he dead? He could just make out Elsa, framed against a patch of sky, pouring ice from her hands into a slide from the roof to the ground. The second her feet hit the earth, the slide collapsed into no more than a bucket's worth of water. His snow pile vanished similarly, leaving his clothes slightly damp. He lay there, utterly bewildered for what felt like ages before Elsa's worried, tear-moistened face loomed over him.

"Flynn? Are you alright? I'm so, so sorry! I never should have said yes... I so was scared I was going to lose you," she sniffled, looking like an emotional wreck.

She scrubbed the tears from her face and they clinked when they hit the ground. They were frozen solid. How? Was he hallucinating?

"Hey, it's okay, Princess. I'm fine," he groaned, sitting up.

He reached for her to comfort her, but she shook her head, biting her lip. "I can't. It's just too dangerous when I'm worked up like this. I could accidentally turn you into an ice sculpture," she admitted.

"So, the snow that saved me, that really was you?" She nodded. "You saved my life. What exactly are you apologizing for?"

"I did something to make you fall. I must have for someone who's done this as many times as you to slip. Maybe I got too excited and iced the roof," she speculated.

Flynn's cheeks heated, remembering what had made him fall. "Elsa. You didn't do a thing wrong," he assured her. "Without you, I'd be a smear on the pavement right now. Thank you."

"So you're not... freaking out about my magic?" she asked timidly.

"Well, maybe a little. This is totally new and unexpected, so I'll need a minute to process. But I think your powers are amazing. They make you special."

"I can't control them very well. They get all tangled up in my emotions. I- I got sent away because I hurt my sister with my powers by accident when we were playing," she confessed, deeply ashamed.

"Well, you just need a little practice. Have you actually practiced or have you been doing that thing you do where you pretend to be fine when you're not?" Flynn accused.

"I meditate in the mornings using an ice sword. That counts, right?" Elsa huffed defensively.

"You can clearly do much more than ice swords, but skills take practice. In my apprenticeship at the blacksmith's, I had to try ten times before I got a piece of metal hammered straight. Then it took me eight tries to hammer a piece of metal into a curve, and so on. The more you work one of your powers, the easier it will get to progress to the next one to learn. I could help, if you want. I'm good at finding hiding spots where no one will see," he offered.

"You'd do that, for me? I'm dangerous. I almost killed my sister. It wouldn't be safe..." she protested.

"Since when have I ever cared about safe?" Flynn scoffed. "I just almost fell to my death running across a rooftop and I'd do it again anyway if I thought you'd still come with me."

"Thank you, Flynn. I don't know what I'd do without you," she thanked him with a hesitant smile.

"You're welcome, Snowflake," he accepted with a grin.

"Snowflake?"

"It's your new nickname. I think it suits you," Flynn reflected innocently.

"You're not calling me that," Elsa growled.

"We'll see about that... Snowflake," he taunted

He sprinted quickly away from the angry little princess and the snowballs she was launching with devastating accuracy at the back of his head.

"I can't believe I actually convinced my aunt and uncle to let me go into the woods with you completely unsupervised," Elsa commented from her seat on Maximus's back.

Flynn walked beside her, eyeing the horse distrustfully because he was convinced it didn't like him. "It must have been my irresistible charm and devastating good looks," he quipped.

"I'm just glad we don't have an escort to try and work around. It would be difficult to explain to the guards why I needed them to wait somewhere they couldn't see us," Elsa huffed. "What are we going to be doing, exactly?"

"Well, since I don't know the limits of your powers, I'm going to assume they are nonexistent, so I'll ask you to try something without the restrictions of what you think you can and can't do," he explained. "I have no expectations, so the possibilities are endless."

They stopped in a clearing far off the path. Elsa dismounted and tied Max to a tree.

"Okay, so what first?" Elsa asked nervously.

"Have you ever made anything more complicated than a sword or an ice slide?"

"No," she admitted.

"Well... you're always drawing buildings. Why not try to make a tiny version of one of your designs? I like the floating house the best."

"Alright. Here goes," Elsa mumbled, shaping the magic with her fingers.

She struggled to get the proportions right, undoing and redoing sections repeatedly. The finished product was lopsided and missing the porch and part of one wall.

"It's hopeless," she sighed, glaring at the hideous slab of ice. She shattered the offending object with a flick of her wrist.

"You give up too easily, Snowflake," Flynn scolded. "It wasn't bad for a first try. Maybe try something a little simpler than a house but still harder than a sword. How about... a snowman?"

Elsa smiled fondly. "Anna always wanted to build snowmen together. We made one when we were kids and named him Olaf. I remember what he looked like pretty well, so it should be easy to make him again," she assured herself.

She took a steadying breath and twirled her hand in the air, remembering what Olaf looked like the first time and calling upon the feelings she felt when she and her sister built him. He immediately took shape, twigs detaching from the trees around them for arms and hair and an icicle sprouting on his face in place of a carrot for a nose. Elsa examined her work. He was perfect, exactly like the one from her childhood. Then her work opened its eyes and blinked. Elsa smothered a scream. Flynn felt all the blood drain from his face.

"Elsa, did you see...?"

"Hi! I'm Olaf and I like warm hugs!" the snowman suddenly greeted happily with a wave of his twig arm and a bright smile.

Elsa blinked back tears at her sister's words from so long ago, feeling a pang of loss. She missed Anna fiercely in that moment.

"Olaf? You're... alive?" she murmured.

"Um, I think so? It's so nice to meet you, Elsa," he giggled.

"How do you know my name?"

"You made me, remember? Of course I know who you are. Hey, is it just me, or is it a bit warm out?" he asked.

Sure enough, drops of water were rolling off his face and he was starting to sag.

"Oh! You're melting. If you stay, you'll disappear. Um, hang on, I just have to send you away... somehow," she muttered.

"But not forever, right? I want to get to know you," the little snowman insisted.

"Not forever," Elsa confirmed. "Just for a little while."

With a sweep of her arm, Olaf dissipated into snowflakes and whirled on a cold breeze out towards the ocean.

"Where did you send him?" Flynn asked quietly, still looking as freaked out as she felt.

"Arendelle's mountains. If what I was trying to do worked, it'll be like he fell asleep until I call him back someday," she explained. "Hopefully."

"So you created life," Flynn commented. "Does that make you a mother?"

"Oh, God, I hope not," Elsa told him. "I'd rather be Olaf's friend than his parent. I'm certainly not ready to be anyone's parent yet."

"Well, that happened," Flynn said, abruptly changing the subject. "How about we try making that house again, you know, something not sentient. What did you do with Olaf that was different than the house?"

"I think I just... pictured him in my head and let the magic loose, and there he was. With the house, I was trying to focus on shaping floors and supports and tiny shingles," Elsa stated.

"Try making the house again, but this time just see it in your mind like your drawing decided to come off the page," Flynn encouraged. "You can do this."

Elsa tried again, following his advice and just getting a clear picture of how she wanted the tiny house to look before she let her magic free to carry out her demands. She opened her eyes and saw her drawing in three dimensions, constructed of glittering ice. It was the boathouse in perfect miniature.

"I did it!" she yelled. Then she reined in her excitement. "I mean, I did it," she repeated more quietly.

"Yes you did, Snowflake. I knew you had it in you. Now let's see what else you can do. Show me what you've got," he challenged.

"With pleasure," Elsa retorted with a grin.

By the time they had finished "powers practice," it had devolved into a snowball fight and they were both exhausted and slightly damp. Flynn was shivering, so they called it a day and headed out with Max into the warm sunshine of the main path. Elsa finally felt like she had some idea of what she could do, some control. She looked forward to future practice sessions with Flynn with bright anticipation.

A/N: Flynn finally knows! Also, the song is the ballad from Barbie in the Princess and the Pauper. It's really pretty, and I think you should listen to it. The words just suit them so well. And the book is a fairytale that has been around for ages. I like Shannon Hale's version better than the original, though. You should also check that out because it's amazing perfection and my most favorite book in the world. You can probably find it for cheap at a used bookstore or Amazon. Sorry if it seems like time is skipping around. The next chapter is set two years after Flynn's fourteenth birthday. Just fill in that time with visions of tiny Felsa running around creating havoc and singing in the gardens, talking, or just sharing a quiet moment together. Your imagination will do the cuteness of it far better justice than any mere words. Hugs, Me


	5. Dance

A/N: Tangled & Frozen: I don't own them. Moving on.

Chapter 5: There'll Be Music, There'll Be Light

"Flynn! I have an emergency!" Elsa called, running up to him on the garden path where he was trimming hedges.

She was anxious enough that she had forgotten herself and shouted in Arendellian, but after three, nearly four, years of learning it, Flynn had gotten really good at understanding her when she slipped into her native tongue. They often used it on purpose to avoid eavesdroppers. Elsa reached him, struggling to catch her breath, a wild look in her eye. She was wearing a fancier dress than usual, with abundant skirts and shimmery bits of bouillon and glass beads. It was a vivid shade of pink, which Flynn imagined she was not thrilled with.

" _Hallo_ to you too, Sparkles," he teased her.

"What? Sparkles?" she panted in Coronan. He gestured to her fancy dress. "Oh. This awful thing. I'm wearing hoops, Flynn. _Hoops_. My skirts have skirts. I feel like I weigh a thousand pounds. And this corset makes it hard... to... breathe," she gasped. "And _hallo_ to you as well."

"What is the crisis? Does have something to do with this rose-colored monstrosity you've clearly been forced at sword point to wear?"

"They found out about me dancing with you in the village circle. Now that they know I don't have two left feet, they've insisted I learn all the latest dance styles and go to the Winter Solstice Ball next month. Aunt Arianna says I'm too old to bow out of it now!" she cried.

"So you have to learn how to dance the boring way and go to a fancy party. What's the issue?"

"I'm utterly hopeless at it!" she moaned. "I keep messing up and I think I broke my practice partner's ankle."

"Ouch. So what do you want me to do about this devastating turn of events? Smuggle you out of the country?" he suggested.

"Could you? No. I mean- what I want is for you to help me with the steps," she stuttered.

"Me? I don't know a thing about dancing the upper class way. What good will I be?"

"I could explain how it's supposed to go, and we could try it, and you could tell me where I'm going wrong. All the dance instructor ever says is 'Again!' very snappishly," Elsa explained.

"As you wish, Snowflake," he relented. "What is the first part you have trouble with?"

"My partner puts his hands on my waist, and I put my hands on his shoulders," she began, pulling his hands into position and then placing her own on his shoulders. "Then he picks me up, spins me 180 degrees, sets me down, and there are these complicated arm movements. I keep smashing my partner's toes on the landing."

"Let's try it," Flynn said, humming some music to keep time while they attempted the move.

Sure enough, Elsa landed on his feet. He winced, but covered it with a smile at her guilty look. They repeated this painful process until Flynn had an idea of what she was doing to make her aim perfectly for his throbbing toes.

"You keep pulling yourself closer during the spin, like you're afraid I'm going to drop you. That means that when I put you down, you land on my toes. What you need to do is keep your arms straight- don't bend the elbow. The reason you have your hands there isn't to keep you from falling. That's your partner's job. It's to keep you from listing to the side. If you keep your arms straight, when he puts you down, you'll be at arm's length, unable to step on his toes if you wanted to. And given the personality of some of those dukes' sons, you just might want to," he joked.

She giggled. "Okay. I think I understand. Let's try again."

This time, she managed not to land on Flynn's feet, and they did it once more to make sure she had it, but instead of setting her down after the half spin, he whirled her around and around until she was dizzy, laughing loudly.

"You're only supposed to spin me once!" she chortled.

"My mistake," he said with a teasing smile, setting her down on her feet.

She swayed slightly and he steadied her. Then he let go and made ridiculous gestures and faces until she was laughing so hard tears were streaming down her face.

"What are you doing?" she gasped.

"You were kind of vague with 'complicated arm movements' so I'm just doing my best interpretation," he smirked.

"I doubt that's actually what they are, and those stiff old goats certainly wouldn't make such _faces_ ," she teased. "Now that's not my only problem. Can you help me with the next step?"

"I'd be happy to."

Flynn was explaining how to expect the resistance of her skirts to stopping their movement, twirling her around, sometimes into his chest, dipping her, when the servant spotted them. He marched over to them with a look of stony calm that Flynn recognized all too well from the orphanage as one that preceded a lecture. He stood Elsa up and took a step back.

"Flynn, why did you...?" she trailed off as she spotted the head butler, Mr. Horton.

"Your Highness, your presence is requested in the dance hall for the rest of your lesson," he informed her with a stiff bow.

"Certainly. I- I'll see you later, Flynn. _Farvel_ ," she replied, waving goodbye as she gathered her skirts and took her leave.

" _Farvel,_ Princess," he murmured at her retreating back. He turned to the head butler, who was still standing there, and put on his best innocent expression. "Can I help you?"

"Your relationship with the princess is not appropriate," he announced bluntly.

"No one had a problem with us being friends before," Flynn scoffed.

"That was when you were children. Everyone assumed she'd grow out of it or return to her country before it got this far. You aren't children anymore. You are sixteen, yes? Nearly a man. Alone with a royal young woman. Surely even you can see that it isn't socially acceptable."

"So the real problem isn't that she's alone with me as a man, but that she's alone with a male _commoner_ ," Flynn spat. "I'm not good enough for her just because of what I was born to. You're not exactly a blue blood yourself, pal."

"It isn't about good enough, my boy," the butler sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Truly, you're a better man than many a noble's son. You work hard and obviously care very deeply about Princess Elsa. But she is the future queen of a kingdom, whether hers or this one, the way things are going. Any match she makes has to be mutually advantageous, on equal footing. She has her people to think about. As unfortunate a reality as it is, she does not have the luxury of marrying for love."

"Who said anything about marriage? I just want to spend time with her. And who cares how it looks? What matters what people think? Can't a queen marry who she wants?" Flynn growled.

"Any appearance of impropriety, whether real or imagined, could ruin her prospects. If that were the case, only the most power-hungry sharks who care little for reputation would be left to circle her. If you truly want what's good for her, you will keep your distance. At the very least, limit physical contact, please," the butler pleaded.

Flynn thought about it. He did want what was best for Elsa, but was it really to be married to some stranger who wouldn't understand her the way he did, to make her think she'd done something wrong when he started to pull away? He'd make how much he cared about her less obvious, for her sake, but he wouldn't stop being her friend. But something the butler said kept nagging at him.

"Alright, I can do that. But what did you mean by Elsa ruling here? Won't she be busy ruling Arendelle?" he questioned.

"Fosterings typically only last five years, at the most, and the end of that time is drawing near. I am in charge of all non-emergency, non-military post. The princess's parents have not sent her a single letter since her arrival here, nor a letter to the king and queen specifying when their daughter should return. For some unfathomable reason, appearances indicate that the king and queen of Arendelle have no intention of recalling their daughter home anytime soon, if ever," the butler admitted.

"Not a single letter? But her sister Anna writes to her almost every week. They're as close as they ever were," Flynn protested. "Why would they..."

"It isn't our place to speculate," the butler chided. "Whatever the reason they have been so cold, Elsa may be staying here for a long time. Every year without word, it becomes more likely our own lost princess will never return. The King and Queen are quite fond of their niece. It is probable that they will name her heir to Corona in the event that their own daughter is never found. So, you see, there is little chance that Elsa will not end up a queen," he explained. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've gossiped rather enough about my employers for one day. I recommend we both return to our duties."

As Flynn resumed his work on the hedges, he thought about everything the butler said. It was likely that the reason Elsa's parents had shut her out was the incident with her powers when she was a child, which was monumentally unfair. It burned him up, the talk about his lower status, but more than that, Flynn realized, he felt so hollow thinking about Elsa married to some strange prince. It struck him then that he might be in love with her. He could have laughed at the hopelessness of that situation. How he felt was futile unless...

He could change who he was.

Of course! It was the perfect plan. All he had to do was accumulate enough wealth to buy land with a title attached and he would stop being orphan Eugene Fitzherbert, and become Lord or Duke or something Flynn Rider. Then he'd be good enough for Elsa, and if she felt the same way about him that he did about her, then it wouldn't matter that he wasn't a prince or a king. Her aunt and uncle would want her to be happy, right?

But how would he get that much money? Saving his apprentice wages would take too long. He'd always been a good pickpocket. Maybe he could persuade some wealth to part ways with people that could spare a bit and sell it off when he had enough to make the land deal. He could hide it in the woods in a secret spot.

All he had to do was make sure no one ever knew it was him so he'd still have a good reputation when he convinced anyone who needed convincing that his unknown father had actually been someone important who recently passed away and left him money out of guilt.

Despite the affection with which she always called him "my thief," Elsa would tell him stealing was wrong, and lying too, but this was the only way they could be together. He would do it, and then she'd forgive him because it was proof of what lengths he was willing to go to for her. Wouldn't she?

The day of the ball came and faded into evening. Flynn, of course, wasn't invited. He didn't mind. Too uptight for his tastes. He came back from depositing the fruits of his second successful heist in the woods to find a note on paper made of frost lying on his pillow. He grinned. Elsa had sent it. She often left him little notes like this, that he could easily melt once read so they would stay secret. He opened the delicate paper carefully. A message was scrawled in lines of blue ink in her careful, precise handwriting.

 _Flynn,_

 _Meet me in the library at sundown. I need to talk to you before the party. Use the secret passage near the kitchen. I think Mr. Horton is worried that I'm going to sneak away from the festivities to spend time with you and might not let you in. He's kept a close eye on us since that day practicing the minuet in the garden. He's right that I'd rather be with you than surrounded by all those people being forced to be proper and ladylike. I'll see you soon, Flynn Rider. Don't you dare be late._

 _-Elsa_

He smiled. He could almost hear her little queenly voice ordering him to be punctual. This was the perfect opportunity to give her his surprise a bit early. She was probably freaking out about the ball, and maybe having a little talisman to remind her of him when she was in the metaphorical trenches would help reduce her social anxiety. He snatched the small, unassuming, plainly-wrapped box from under his cot and strode towards the kitchens at a brisk clip. His princess had told him not to be late, after all.

He found her standing in the library, hiding behind a bookshelf. When she saw him she stepped forward into a beam of glowing evening sunlight. He sucked in a breath. She was absolutely radiant. She was in another full skirt that was this time in a flattering shade of icy blue. It glittered with silver thread and bright shards of dark blue gems The square neckline of the bodice was modestly-cut, but her creamy shoulders were bare, the short sleeves hanging off them. Her silvery-blonde hair was out of its signature braid and wound into a bun on top of her head, framed by an opulent, gem-encrusted tiara that could only be the one that had been intended for the lost princess. Her big blue eyes glowed out from her pale face, which was clothed in a nervous expression.

He cleared his throat. "You clean up good, Princess. Almost makes me wish I was on your dance card tonight."

"Thank you, Flynn," she acknowledged with a smile. "I'm worried about tonight. What if I just embarrass myself? What if I can't stand to be there long enough to be polite? What if..."

"Stop fretting," he interrupted. "You're going to be great. You've practiced those dances often enough that you know them better than your own name at this point. And if you make a mistake, who cares? Nobody will say anything, and if they do, they're too much of a fool for you to suffer their company anyhow. Quality people aren't going to wait like vultures for you to screw up. Don't stress."

"This is my first ball ever. It will be the first time I've met some of these people. What if they don't like me?" she asked timidly.

"Then it's their loss," he answered confidently. "Elsa, what do I always tell you?"

"Never look at the mark?"

"No."

"It's only illegal if you get caught?"

"Not that either. The other thing."

"That I'm... I'm-" she stammered. She couldn't say it without feeling conceited.

"Wonderful," he finished, taking her hands in his. "You're amazing. You're the best, smartest, most capable person I know. You're going to be great," he reassured her.

"Really?"

"When have I ever lied to you?" he asked, affecting a wounded expression.

"Never," she answered with a watery smile. She blew out a hard breath. "Okay. I can do this. Flynn Rider believes in me. I can do this. It's just dancing. When you see me leave, will you meet me under the willow tree and borrow the mandolin? I think I'll need it after an evening trying to be a perfect princess for a hundred strangers."

"I promise. Now, go get them, Snowflake. Knock their cravats off."

Elsa turned to go, but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Wait. You just need one more thing," he said. "Well, two more things."

He carefully undid her hair from its bun, over her half-hearted protests, leaving the sides pinned back from her face and the rest tumbling down her back in soft waves.

"Thanks. That was starting to hurt my scalp," she admitted. "But what was the other thing?" she inquired.

"This," he said simply, pulling the box out of his pocket and handing it to her. At her astonished look, he mumbled sheepishly, "I was going to save it for your birthday next month, but I thought you might want to wear it tonight to remind you that I'm there in spirit."

She quickly tore open the paper and removed the lid from the box. She drew out something on a long, shimmering chain. A necklace. It was the Arendelle crocus, hanging upside down from the chain, with a small Corona sun pendant dangling from its central petal.

"Oh, Flynn, it's beautiful," she sighed.

"It's steel, which is more resistant to the cold than precious metals, so you won't have to worry about your powers damaging it. I had the blacksmith help me make it since it's got all the small pieces. It has both the sun and the flower because you're just as much my- I mean, Corona's princess as Arendelle's," he corrected. "Do you really like it?"

"I love it, Flynn," she assured him. "Thank you so much. Will you help me put it on?"

"Of course."

She turned around, and he brushed her hair off her neck, making her shiver. She probably wasn't used to warm hands since her skin was always cool. He carefully fastened his gift around her throat and smoothed her hair back in place. She faced him, smiling hesitantly.

"How do I look?"

"You look perfect. Now hurry, you wouldn't want to miss the whole shindig. You're fashionably late as it is," he prodded her.

She thanked him and hurried from the library towards the sound of elegant music.

"Announcing Her Royal Highness, Princess Elsa!" called the servant at the top of the stairs.

Elsa felt a hundred pairs of eyes lock on her and gave a strained smile as she descended the stairs to the ballroom floor. She held her head up high, chanting remembered instruction from her poise class in her head, holding her voluminous skirts with one hand. She did her best to project a cool, collected air. She was a princess, for heaven's sakes. She ought to be able to look regal for the minute and a half it took to walk down a set of stairs, even in nightmarish heels. She made it to the bottom without humiliating herself.

 _So far, so good._

Her aunt and uncle met her, smiling.

"You look lovely, my dear girl," Queen Arianna complimented, looking beautiful herself in a splendid violet gown.

"Indeed," the king agreed. "Elsa, dear, there is someone here who would like to meet you."

He motioned someone from the edge of the room over to them. The young man finished his conversation quickly with a friendly goodbye and made his way to the royal family. He was handsome, Elsa noted. He had a head of fiery hair styled impeccably, prominent green eyes, and a charming grin. He was wearing an immaculate suit, all white and gold. When he reached their group, he bowed deeply and offered his hand to Elsa. She took it hesitantly. She missed the safety blanket of her gloves, but he was wearing a pair, so he should be safe even if she lost control.

"Greetings, Your Majesties, Your Highness. I am Prince Hans Westergard of the Southern Isles. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he stated, punctuating it by kissing the back of Elsa's hand.

She felt her cheeks heat and cleared her throat to hide how flustered she was at his courtly behavior.

"A pleasure to meet you as well, Prince Hans. The Southern Isles are not so distant from Arendelle, correct?" she attempted conversation.

"That is correct, Princess Elsa. It is lovely during the winter, though quite a bit more temperate than your Arendelle. Perhaps you could make a visit sometime? I'd be delighted to show you the sights," he offered with that same charming smile.

 _My goodness, he's forward,_ Elsa thought. _Is it possible that he truly finds me that attractive? Flynn told me I looked perfect, so maybe._

"Perhaps," she commented vaguely.

"Would you do me the honor of permitting me to have your first dance?" he asked gallantly.

 _No. I don't want to dance with you or with anyone here. I'm terrified of messing it up,_ she thought privately.

"Certainly," she agreed aloud, accepting his arm, letting him lead her onto the dance floor.

The first song was a minuet, and despite the fact that she kept wishing Flynn was her partner, she danced perfectly, never stepping on the prince's toes once. When the dance ended, he asked her to dance again. It would be rude to refuse, so she consented. It was a waltz, so there was more time to talk and less space between them. He leaned even closer to murmur in her ear.

"You look beautiful, Princess Elsa."

She thanked him nervously. He was making his intentions rather obvious, but was he interested in the girl or the crown? He had only just met her, so it was likely that he was after her title, but maybe he really did just find her very pretty and was curious about the mysterious princess sent to study in a foreign country. She would give him the benefit of the doubt, but be wary.

He commandeered two more dances before she excused herself to dance with her uncle. Then she had to take a handful of other partners who were all perfect gentlemen that were clearly intrigued by the borrowed princess who trained with the royal guard. She actually talked about her favorite weaponry with one of them, an older gentlemen who was the Viscount of a Coronan territory. He mentioned a weapon he had encountered in the Orient called a balisong that was truly spectacular and recommended a teacher to her that could school her in its use.

She couldn't help feeling that the whole thing would have been much more fun with Flynn there. He would have done ridiculous dance moves without caring how he looked just to make her laugh. He would have brought her something chocolate to eat and whispered sarcastic comments about various nobility in her ear. He would have told her over and over again that she was doing great and that he was proud of her. She missed him fiercely. It was silly because he was right outside somewhere, but she missed him all the same. She had come to realize over the past few years that she cared about him deeply, maybe even loved him. She didn't know much about true love, if anything, but she knew that she was her realest self when she was around him and that his presence always brightened her day. She counted the seconds until it would be socially acceptable to leave to see him.

At last, when the ball was near to winding down, she made her excuses and managed to walk slowly out of the room all the way to the garden like a poised princess before she broke into a run. Flynn was leaning against a tree, waiting. She hobbled quickly over to him on pinched feet with a relieved smile on her face. He made a worried frown when he noticed her limping.

"Are you okay?"

"It's just these evil shoes," she assured him. "I'll be fine."

"Why don't you take them off?" he suggested.

"I can't run around barefoot in a ballgown!" she protested.

"Well, I can't let you suffer, so I suppose I'll just have to carry you," he smirked, scooping her up bridal-style. "Wow, you weren't kidding about these things being heavy. It's a good thing I lift anvils for a living."

"Flynn!" she yelped. "Put me down!"

"As you wish, Snowflake. You know, if you're so worried about being barefoot, why don't you just make a more comfortable pair out of ice and carry the evil ones?" he asked.

"Flynn, you're a genius!" she praised.

"So I've been told," he stated with a cocky smirk.

She kicked off her other shoes and crafted a pair of boots made of ice. She'd never tried making anything wearable before, but the results were more than satisfactory, maybe even pretty. She groaned in contentment at the cooling relief of her aching feet.

"Better?" Flynn laughed.

"Better," she confirmed.

They walked to their spot under the willow tree and sat close together, Elsa with no small amount of difficulty. Flynn slung the mandolin off his back and began to play their favorite song, the first one they'd ever sung together.

"Once a lass... met a lad..." Elsa crooned, smiling.

She was finally comfortable. Well, almost. Once the song finished, Elsa squirmed under the weight of her ballgown, trying to readjust to a better position in her hoops.

"What's wrong, Snowflake?" Flynn asked.

"This dress isn't made for sitting down," she complained.

"Why didn't you change before you came? I would have waited," Flynn said.

"I couldn't wait to see you," Elsa admitted. She caught herself. "I mean, singing with you is much more enjoyable than that stuffy party." She couldn't let Flynn know how she felt. He wouldn't tease her by flirting if he felt seriously about it, felt the same as she did.

"Well, you could fix this problem like you did the shoes," he suggested. "If you can make paper for notes, why not a lighter, more comfortable dress?"

"Shoes are one thing, but flexible fabric... I don't know. I've only ever made things out of hard ice. But I'm willing to give it a try. Turn around," she ordered.

He obliged, and she stripped off the heavy hoops and gown, leaving only her underthings. She loosened her corset and set to work creating an ice replica of her ball gown, minus the layers and layers of skirts. She was satisfied with the results that chilled her skin pleasantly. She allowed Flynn to turn back around and he complimented her work. She blushed and thanked him, then sat back down in the grass much easier than before. She removed the crown, setting it down in her pile of discarded clothes. She stared at it for a while, then sighed and looked pointedly away.

"What's the matter, Princess?" Flynn asked, taking her hand.

She squeezed back, something she couldn't have done even two years ago. She was so much better at control, now. However, Flynn was still the only person she allowed to touch her. He knew the dangers and would let go if things got scary. It was great beyond words that she could finally do something so simple as hold hands with a boy. It gave her hope that she would see Anna again someday. She realized she had been silent for awhile and quickly responded to her best friend's query.

"It's just... I gave you so much grief about that stolen crown when we were children, and here I am, wearing another one."

"That's not stolen. The King and Queen are letting you use it tonight," Flynn protested.

"But it _is_ ," Elsa insisted. "It's stolen from my cousin, the lost princess. It's her birthright, not mine. I'm just the borrowed princess. It doesn't belong to me."

"That's not true. You belong in Corona as much as anybody who was born here, after all this time. And it's just a tiara. Your aunt and uncle aren't trying to give you the throne," he placated. At her guilty, anxious look, he asked, "Are they?"

"They told me tonight, before the party, that I'm like a daughter to them, and that if they never find their real one, they're thinking of naming me heir to Corona. I couldn't answer them the way they wanted, so I didn't say anything at all. They aren't doing anything official yet. It's just an idea, but I hate the implications it has, that they've given up on their true daughter ever being found. I don't want to steal my cousin's place. I don't want them to give up on her. When I ride with the guard someday, I'm going to help find her and bring her home," she vowed, a determined look on her face.

"I have no doubt that you will. If anyone can do it, it's you," Flynn replied. "You're the bravest person I know."

"Thank you, Flynn. Could we sing some more now? I'd like to take my mind off of everything, please," she sighed.

"Sure thing, Elsa," he agreed.

She leaned her head against Flynn's shoulder and they sang a few more songs. Before long, her eyelids began to droop and she was yawning frequently.

"Flynn," she muttered sleepily. "Why don't you play me one I've never heard before and sing it to me? I'd like to just listen for awhile."

"As you wish, Snowflake," he chuckled, beginning to strum the notes to a song he'd learned only recently. He felt like the lyrics really fit his situation with the Princess.

 _Wise... men... say... only fools... rush in...,_

 _But I... can't... help... falling in love... with... you..._

 _Shall... I stay...? Would it be... a... sin...,_

 _If I... can't... help... falling in love... with... you...?_

 _Like a river flows... surely to the sea,_

 _Darling, so we go... Some things... were meant to be..._

 _Take... my... hand... Take my whole... life... too..._

 _If I... can't... help... falling in love... with... you..._

 _Like a river flows... surely to the sea,_

 _Darling, so we go... Some things... were meant to be..._

 _Take... my... hand... Take my whole... life... too..._

' _Cause I... can't... help... falling in love... with... you..._

' _Cause I... can't... help... falling in love... with... you..._

Flynn finished the tune and turned to Elsa to find out what she thought about the song, but she was fast asleep, snoring softly with her cheek snuggled against his shoulder. He laughed silently at the open-mouthed, relaxed, sleeping-face she was making. His princess. She was still gorgeous. He pressed a kiss to her temple.

" _God natt min elskede_ ," he whispered in Arendellian.

Prince Hans Westergard of the Southern Isles was offended. _This_ was the reason that Princess Elsa had spurned his advances? A _commoner_? There was no way he was about to let some servant boy get in the way of his plan to seize the throne of Arendelle. He would have to come up with a way to get this 'Flynn' out of the picture. Permanently.

A/N: Wow! What a cliffie! Hans only saw them from the point of Elsa asking him to sing to her because it took awhile to track her down, so he has no idea about her powers yet. Also, what Flynn said at the end is Norwegian for "Goodnight, my love." And the song is "Can't Help Falling in Love," originally by Elvis Presley I think, but my favorite cover is by Tyler Joseph of Twenty-One Pilots. There are a ton of versions out there, though, so you could pick any or all of them to listen to. It's a beautiful song that I thought fit Flynn's feelings for Elsa perfectly. Next chapter: a little action to offset the fluff! Get hyped!


	6. Hans, You're Out of Your Depth

A/N: Pointless disclaimer: I don't own Tangled or Frozen. I love them both, though. Onwards and upwards!

Chapter 6: Please Go Back Home

Elsa sat up with a jolt. She was confused to find she was in her own bed at Corona castle.

"Flynn?" she mumbled sleepily.

She was only wearing her underthings, her gown piled on the floor by her bed and the tiara safely resting on the nightstand next to the dried flower crown Flynn had given her all those years ago. The sheets were slightly damp. Her ice dress must have melted in her sleep. At least that meant Flynn hadn't seen her in her underwear.

Her maid knocked and came in, tidying things. Gerda still cleaned, drew the bath, and delivered breakfast even though Elsa still handled all personal grooming and dressing. Today, though, she seemed particularly cheerful about something, humming to herself as she bustled around the room.

"Gerda, do you have something to tell me?" she prompted with an arch of her brow.

"Indeed, Princess. You know your young man from last night?"

Gerda knew Flynn's name, so Elsa couldn't fathom who she could be talking about. She stared blankly at her maid.

"The handsome one? The prince from the Southern Isles, milady," Gerda prodded.

"Oh. Prince Hans. Yes, I do seem to recall him," Elsa answered.

"Well, he was so taken with you that he requested permission to extend his stay so he could spend more time with you!"Gerda chirped enthusiastically. "Isn't that wonderful?"

"Wonderful," Elsa echoed woodenly.

How was she supposed to spend time with Flynn with the prince trailing her like a ginger-haired shadow? Elsa thought of something else.

"I have lessons all day. Is he going to sit and watch me recite diplomatic protocol?" she speculated.

"Oh, no, Your Highness. You are excused from all lessons today apart from singing and swordplay. The prince has requested that you give him a tour of the castle and grounds. And I heard- Oh! You absolutely cannot wear that drab thing!" Gerda cried, snatching the simple gray and green frock out of her hands.

She made a tutting noise of disapproval as she stuffed it in the very back of the wardrobe. She selected a light yellow dress trimmed in white lace and embroidered with red roses that climbed up from the hem on coiling verdant vines. It was pretty enough, though much more feminine than Elsa usually chose for herself.

"This is the one you want. Any man sees you in this, he'll be head over heels for you in a heartbeat," Gerda gushed.

Elsa was hesitant, but Gerda's assurance made her try it on. However, she wanted to catch the eye of a different boy than the maid thought. She was fourteen, now. Her womanly features had come in recently, and it showed. The dress wasn't particularly low-cut, but it flattered her figure noticeably. She still preferred blue, but this was alright. At least there were no sleeves were so tiny that they were barely there, exposing more skin that she typically cared to. But if she was going to be queen one day, she needed to be as comfortable in these types of gowns as she was in her sword training trousers and tunic. When she stepped out from behind the privacy screen, Gerda squeaked joyfully and clapped her hands.

"You look lovely, Princess Elsa. That boy isn't going to know what hit him," she promised.

"That's what I'm counting on," Elsa replied with a coy smile.

After being forced to spend an entire day in his company, Elsa was fairly certain at this point that Hans was after her title. None of his compliments went below the skin and all of his questions seemed to be about Arendelle and her duties as crown princess rather than about the castle he had supposedly wanted a tour of. Elsa was purposefully as dry and pedantic as possible with her "fun facts" on the tour. She was reluctantly impressed that the prince was able to pretend to still be enraptured by descriptions of the portrait hall after the first hour, let alone the second. Corona's castle was not that large, yet it seemed impossible to bore him with her unnecessarily detailed descriptions of it.

 _I only have to make it until five,_ she thought to herself. _Then I can escape and take out my annoyance on whatever unfortunate soul is across from me in the ring._

She hadn't seen Flynn all day. Maybe it was time to venture outdoors to see if she could run into him, despite the presence of the prince. She was almost out of material on the interior of the castle anyway. She led him outside, continuing her tactic to try and shake him, despite its ineffectiveness thus far.

"And these are the royal gardens, where we grow several varieties of plants both for uses in the infirmary and kitchen as well as for simple aesthetic value. Nearly every plant in here has some use or another, though," she was saying. Noticing his vacantly pleasant expression, she decided to see if he was paying attention. "For example, hemlock contains a deadly poison that can be employed in a variety of ways by the castle assassins that lurk in the shadows. There are at least two hiding in a particular area at any given time, but we haven't had an incident of them accidentally killing each other for a number of weeks," she informed him sweetly.

"Fascinating, Princess Elsa. Do go on," he replied, looking around the grounds absently.

Her suspicions about his lack of attention were confirmed. No wonder he wasn't bored to tears yet.

"Yes, Princess Elsa. Do go on about the deadly castle assassins that lurk everywhere. Why, I'm certain I saw one in the bath house just this morning. Asked me if I could scrub behind his ears," Flynn commented sarcastically from the other side of a red rose bush.

This managed to surprise the prince out of his inattention. "What? Who are you? What assassins?"

"The name's Flynn Rider. And the imaginary assassins that Princess Elsa was talking about to test if you were paying a bit of attention to what she was saying during the tour she was giving very graciously at your request. You failed, by the way," he said helpfully.

Hans had the sense to be embarrassed, flushing indignantly. "Ahem. A thousand apologies, Princess Elsa. I was simply lost in thought," he coughed. "Allow me to make up for my mistake with a lovely rose to compliment your beauty."

"That's a nice idea and all, buddy, but if you want to make her forgive you for wasting her valuable time, I'd suggest gardenias, since it's her favorite flower. But between you and me, that's a terrible strategy because you're trying to take flowers from her own garden and give them to her as a gift. That's bad form," Flynn stated in a friendly tone. "And I think a thousand apologies is a little excessive, don't you?"

"How dare you address your betters that way?" Hans spluttered, turning a comical shade of red. "Who are you to speak to royalty so disrespectfully?"

"My dearest friend in all the world," Elsa admonished, regarding the prince coldly. "You would do well to remember that. But, Flynn, do try not to needlessly provoke visiting royalty. We wouldn't want to create an international incident." The clock tower chimed a quarter till five, and Elsa had to stop herself from sighing in relief. "If you will excuse me, I must be going to change my attire for practice. Captain Renard abhors lateness. You are welcome to observe, if you like, Prince Hans. If you can locate the stables, then someone there can easily direct you to the training ring."

Hans stood in the gardens, looking bewildered after the retreating princess. "What is she practicing?"

"Drills with the royal guard. I think she actually has a match today, so you're in for a treat, Your Highness," Flynn grinned.

"She fights... with a sword?" he asked, still looking confused.

"Well, she typically prefers it, but she is also pretty handy with an axe or daggers or a bow," Flynn answered conversationally. "Now, I'd love to stand here and chat all day, but I get a break at five and I always like to see Princess Elsa beat someone into the ground. I wouldn't want to miss it."

He bowed somewhat mockingly and departed. Hans hurried after him to locate the practice area. A princess fighting like a soldier? This was something he had to see.

Princess Elsa strode out into the training yard, clad in gray trousers, boots, and a dark blue tunic, belted at the waist. A small sword hung at her hip, bouncing with her step. Hans smirked. That toothpick wouldn't do anything. She met a large, armor-clad man in the center of a chalk circle and shook his hand. He was holding a massive battleaxe in an iron grip. There was no way the small young woman was going to win. They both took their places at the edge of the circle and another soldier called start.

She moved like lightning. The crown princess of Arendelle struck hard and fast at her bigger opponent before he could lift his weapon. It didn't look like she had done any damage, though. When he raised it, she dodged the swipe like it had been slow as molasses, spinning with a dancer's grace away from the blow. She dodged by rolling, by crouching, and once, by using the axe blade as a springboard and launching herself into the air. She used the momentum of her flip to yank her adversary to the ground. He got up quickly, then rushed her, and she stood there, waiting as he charged closer. Then she slid under his axe at the last second, swiping at a spot on his shoulder. She stood up behind the man, but when he turned to face her, all of his armor clattered off to the ground. At his shocked expression, Elsa opened her right hand to reveal a fistful of small buckles like those used to hold armor plates together.

The people assembled at the fence roared, Flynn Rider cheering loudest of all. Hans was utterly speechless and remained frozen in place. He had underestimated the crown princess. She was not only strong, but clever. She wouldn't be easily fooled by his schemes. He needed time to collect his thoughts and make a plan that accounted for all the new variables. He would make a strategic retreat, then return at a later date to complete his game for Arendelle's throne.

After all of the hovering and inquiry, Elsa was surprised when Prince Hans suddenly decided to leave the country. Maybe he was intimidated by her warrior prowess and had come to the conclusion that she was too much for him to handle. Good. She would not miss him. She warned Anna about him in her next letter so she would be aware of the potential threat from the youngest prince of the Southern Isles.

"I can't believe Gerda thought that oaf was charming," she muttered to Flynn once the offending prince was on a ship out of the kingdom.

"Yeah, a pretty face blinds people to character flaws, sometimes. But I did appreciate that dress she picked out for you," he teased.

"Really?" Elsa squeaked.

"I prefer you in blue, personally. Brings out your eyes. But you need to understand that being feminine doesn't mean you can't be strong. You looked nice, but I think you look pretty all the time," he replied easily, not seeming to notice how his words affected her.

"Thank you, Flynn. Would you be up to powers practice in the woods today? I think I need to blow off some steam," she growled.

"Wow. Prince Pretty Boy really got you riled up, didn't he?"

"He was insufferable," she groaned.

"You say the same thing about me," he pointed out.

"But _you_ make it seem cute," she huffed. "He just acted like a pompous-"

"Okay, Snowflake. I really think you do need to blow off some steam," he interrupted, cutting off the beginning of a tirade.

"Let's go," she enticed, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the stables to retrieve Max.

Both pretended not to be as deeply affected by the simple physical contact as they were.

"Oh, Frederic. I can't believe that persistent young man scared off so easily. The first suitor to court our Elsa, and he just runs away," Queen Arianna sighed.

"Now, darling. You and I both know he wasn't a very good prospect. Thirteenth in line for the throne? The advantage would have been all his in that marriage," the king reminded his wife.

"But he would have been good practice for Elsa at how to handle courting. Her only friend is the blacksmith's boy. Her social skills are... lacking. She's smart. She knows what to do, but the execution needs improvement. If she only had a bit of experience..." she sighed.

"I know, darling," King Frederic soothed. "He left not long after witnessing Elsa's match. Perhaps he was intimidated by a woman who can fight. Maybe I should remove Elsa from the guard's drills..."

"Oh, but she loves her swordplay. It's a great source of pride to her, to be the only noblewoman in the kingdom trained to handle a blade. It is the only thing she looks forward to each day, aside from seeing Flynn. We couldn't possibly take that from her," the queen protested.

"You're right, of course," her husband agreed. "Speaking of Flynn, have you noticed anything peculiar about how he and Elsa behave around each other?"

"They've been inseparable since they were children. Elsa pleaded with us to give him the apprenticeship so he would be closer to the castle and they could play together more often. You don't think that we've been too lenient, have we? Letting them form such a bond?" the queen worried.

"I don't think we should have prevented their friendship, no. I do think that they might have developed a stronger relationship than that without us noticing, though," King Frederic observed.

"And if that is the case, that they have fallen in love, what do we do? We aren't her parents. Can we make decisions about whether or not they can marry?" Queen Arianna wondered.

"We've helped to raise her into the young woman she is. She has been with us for so long that we consider her a daughter. If Agdar and Iduna wanted a say in her future, they would have written her once in these four years. They would have explained why she was sent away more thoroughly," the king growled.

"So, if we are allowed to decide, then what will we decide, if it comes to it?" the queen inquired.

"We love her dearly. No matter which kingdom she goes on to rule, they are both independent and in good financial shape. Her marriage wouldn't necessarily have to be strategic," he mused, stroking his beard. "I believe that, if Elsa finds someone she loves who is a good man, then we should support her decision to marry him. If she finds no such man by the time she comes of an age to rule, we shall select someone worthy of our fierce little warrior queen."

A/N: Romance is afoot. Be prepared. Hugs, Me.


	7. Elsa is the Bad Cop There is no Good Cop

A/N: I, an intellectual, in no way possess any claim of ownership over either of the Disney franchises of "Twisted Together Untidily" and "Rigid With Ice Due to Extreme Cold." Onwards and Upwards!

Chapter 7: All at Once, Everything Looks Different, Now That I See You

Two years after Elsa's first ball, there was a series of mysterious fires in the kingdom, all burning down local businesses. Elsa was determined to find out who was setting them and prove that she was good enough to be in the royal guard. The deadline for her fostering to end had passed, so after six years, she was basically Corona's second princess. She had a lot more experience and skill in combat, had even bested Captain Renard at last. Her riding and fighting skills were second to none. She had already stopped a handful of crimes.

And yet she had not been allowed to ride with the guard on real assignments, only routine patrols. The captain insisted that it was because every recruit had to do his time in the boring jobs, like standing at the gate for hours, but Elsa knew that it was because she was a princess, expected to rule one day, and this was an attempt to get her to give up on her ambitions and focus on becoming the queen of a country. But Elsa _had_ to be involved in the search for her cousin. She _needed_ to bring Rapunzel home so Corona could have its real princess back.

Hence, the scheme to try and prove that she was worthy to serve in the guard for real by solving the arson case single-handedly. Flynn had helped her with the clues since he knew so much about fire from working in the blacksmith's all these years. When her mind wandered to the impressive physique he'd developed alongside that knowledge, she forced herself to focus. Max was sniffing out a trail that would hopefully lead them to the merchant who supplied the arsonist with the kerosene and gunpowder.

Max stopped sniffing and lifted his head. They were outside a seedy-looking pub called the Sword and Sparrow. Elsa dismounted and told Max to wait outside. Her hand rested at her hip, where her first sword hung. She had gotten tall enough and strong enough to use a longer blade, but she liked the short sword that she had designed. It suited her, and she was so used to it after five years that it felt like an extension of herself. She pushed open the door, gazing around the dark, smoky bar. Some patrons turned to look at the new woman clad in trousers standing in the doorway, but most quickly turned back to their drinks and hunched further into the shadows, either intimidated or uninterested.

"Can I help you, miss?" the grizzled, one-eyed man behind the counter asked while wiping a tankard with a filthy cloth.

"That's Your Highness," she corrected coldly, with a lift of her chin, trying to project immovable strength. "And I hope so. I'm looking for someone. They might have come through here looking to purchase a large amount of kerosene and gunpowder. Do you recall someone like that stopping by?"

"Nooo... Not that I remember. This is a pub, Your Highness. Not a General Store or an armory. You might want to try somewhere else," the barkeep laughed. A few patrons joined in.

"I think you're lying. Would you like to know why?" Elsa asked, calm as could be.

"Why?" the man drawled, leaning self-assuredly on the counter. Some customers were looking in their direction now, curious.

Fast as a snake strikes, Elsa leapt forward and slammed the man's head down onto the stained wooden surface. Several patrons shouted in surprise and a few scattered out the doors.

"Ow! What the h-" the man squawked.

"Quiet," Elsa commanded evenly. The man shut up. "I think you're lying because the basement of this establishment stores the third largest collection of contraband items in Corona. Now, I could arrest you for that, but I'm more interested in your cooperation on the matter of the suspicious fires. So, I'll ask you again: Who came in asking to buy those things?"

When the barkeep was silent, Elsa pressed his face harder into the bar and growled, "No one has died yet, and I would like to keep it that way. I will catch this criminal, with or without your help, and when I do, he will give you up if I ask him. You don't care about the law, but surely your conscience cannot allow you to let a violent and destructive heathen roam the streets."

When this also failed to persuade him, Elsa picked his head up by the greasy hair and smacked it twice more into the bar, then yanked his head back at such an angle that it would have been painful to breathe and murmured, "I could continue beating you, but I have a feeling that a man like you, used to dealing with rough people, will be unaffected. Perhaps I can persuade you as a businessman. The more people that lose their livelihoods to these fires, the fewer individuals that will have the liquid assets to purchase your merchandise. There will eventually be no one left to do business with you. Who knows how many people this insane man intends to ruin?"

After a long beat of disgruntled silence aside from labored breathing, the barkeep grumbled, "Antoine LaGuerre. Foreigner. He used to be a merchant until some local edged him out of competition. Lost everything. He just wants to ruin the people who stopped doing business with him, but he's out for the blood of the man that ruined him."

"Give me a name," Elsa persisted, easing up on her grip on his hair, letting him breathe easier.

"Aldric Wagner," the man coughed. "That's all I know, his name. I swear. Please, let me go, Your Highness."

Elsa let go of his hair abruptly, allowing his already sore nose to thud into the bar. He moaned in pain. She wiped her hand on her trousers.

"Thank you for your cooperation," she said pleasantly, leaving the pub and its terrified patrons behind. "Come on, Max," she prodded, mounting her faithful steed. "Let's go pay this Aldric Wagner a visit. He could be in danger."

After a bit of asking around, they found out that Wagner had a warehouse near the docks where he kept most of his stock. She and Max rode there in the fading light. Her aunt and uncle knew to expect her back late, so they wouldn't worry, hopefully. They arrived at the warehouse at sunset exactly. Elsa told Max to wait outside and crept quietly up to the door of the warehouse. She slipped in a side door, edging around numerous crates toward a voice.

"You ruined me! It's your fault that I have nothing. What kind of man poaches customers from another? The kind who deserves what's coming to him," the voice shouted, tinted with a French accent. That would be LaGuerre.

Elsa made it to the center of the space, peering out from behind a pile of carpets from Agrabah. There was a man tied to a support post in the middle of the room, gagged, emitting muffled screams, surrounded by wood and rags that would easily catch fire. That must be Wagner. La Guerre had his back turned, fiddling with something at the edge of the room. Elsa snuck up to the captive, laying a finger to her lips. The man quieted and she sliced through his ropes with a dagger strapped to her thigh. She motioned him toward the rear exit and he sprinted towards it with a whispered thank you.

Elsa stood by the erstwhile funeral pyre, waiting for the arsonist to notice her. She finally had the man the entire guard had been hunting for weeks right in front of her. He was taking too long, so she cleared her throat loudly. The look of terror on his face when he spun around and found her there was comical.

"Monsieur LaGuerre, you are under arrest," she informed him, drawing her sword.

"I will not go to prison for this! This was my revenge! This was justice!" he screeched.

"No, justice is what will happen to you for what you almost did to that man and what you did to those people's places of business. If you have any money left, I guarantee you it will go to reparations for the damage," she taunted.

"Never!" he yelled, sprinting for the exit.

Elsa chased after him. He was going to make the exit if she didn't do something. She formed a ball of ice in her hand and launched it at the back of his head. He fell out the door, unconscious. Because knocking people out was not an exact science and she had no idea how long he'd be out, she shot some magic at his wrists and ankles that bound him in chains of ice. She could tie him with real restraints when she got to him. She was still over twenty feet from the exit when a boom echoed behind her and she was buried in a cloud of smoke and wood and fire.

Flynn was finishing up at the forge when he heard galloping hoofbeats. He stuck his head out and was nearly barreled over by Max. He had an unconscious guy on his back, bound in ice chains that were nearly melted. Elsa.

"She finally caught the firebug, huh, boy? Good for her. Well, where is she? I want to congratulate her," he stated with a grin, which fell at Max's anxious snort. "Where is she?" he repeated with more urgency.

Max motioned with his head towards the docks, where Flynn could just make out flickers of orange that weren't the sunset. Elsa. Oh, God, no. He grabbed a passing page by the collar. The boy started to protest, but Flynn cut him off.

"Shut up. This is the arsonist the guard has been chasing. Princess Elsa caught him, but she's in danger. At the docks. Get this idiot to the guard and give them that message. Hurry!" Flynn shouted into the boy's face.

He shoved the arsonist off Max's back into the page's arms and kicked Max into a full gallop, tearing out of the yard and into the main road. They arrived at the burning warehouse faster that it should have been possible to, Max dripping with sweat, mouth foaming and muscles trembling. Flynn scrambled off his back and started ramming the nearest door with his shoulder. He had to get in there. She needed him. He flashed back to one of his scariest memories.

 _Elsa walked into the blacksmith's workshop, smiling. She leaned on the door._

" _What are you doing here?" he asked._

" _Oh, cooking class got canceled due to a minor mishap with a frying pan and an entire crate of tomatoes. As I was standing in the middle of the carnage I had accidentally wrought, I realized I've never visited you at work. There's never been a time when I'm on a break and you're not. I wanted to see what it is you do all day," she replied with a grin._

" _It's not very interesting," he warned her. "Mostly it's me hammering things."_

" _That's fine. I'll just watch," she insisted._

 _So he'd gone about his work, listening while she talked about this or that. She moved closer and stood just outside of his workspace, as near as she could be without being in the way. At first, she'd been animated, vibrant, but as time went on, she seemed to almost wilt. She was speaking more slowly, moving around less, pausing more often to catch her breath. She kept wiping sweat from her forehead and swallowing like she was desperately thirsty. He'd never seen her sweat outside of the training yard._

 _Suddenly, she stopped midsentence and blinked rapidly, swaying on her feet. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she crumpled like a ragdoll. He screamed her name and threw down his equipment, stripping off the heavy apron and gloves and rushing to her side. He put a hand on her forehead. She was burning up. Elsa was_ never _hot. Even in the heat of summer, her skin was always slightly cool. What was wrong with her? His eyes landed on the massive fire that fueled the forge. Of course. He was such an_ idiot.

 _He scooped her up and ran for the castle pond. Some shouts of surprise an worry followed him, but he ignored them. Nothing existed outside of getting Elsa cooled down. Her safety was the only thing that mattered. He looked down into her damp face, flushed with heat. She was trembling like a leaf. She was muttering feverishly about something that sounded like an apology, tossing her head back and forth. Her breathing wheezed worryingly._

" _Hang on, Snowflake. Just hold on," he pleaded._

 _He waded into the pond, clothes and all, submerging himself up to his chest and all of Elsa except her face. He waited anxiously for something to happen. Suddenly, Elsa inhaled deeply, her body jackknifing in his arms. All of the heat seeped out into the surrounding water and dissipated and the surface even started to get slushy. He shivered water surrounding Elsa was freezing, but he wasn't going to move until she opened her eyes, not until he knew for sure that she was okay._

 _Her eyes fluttered open and the water returned to its normal barely cool temperature. Those beautiful blue orbs found his face and she smiled up at him._

" _I guess that I don't do so well in the heat, huh?" she croaked jokingly._

" _Don't ever scare me like that again," he replied, for once not answering humor with humor._

 _He hugged her tightly to his chest and walked her slowly out of the water, setting her down gingerly on a bench. It was an awkward explanation to concerned castle staff that the princess had overheated and Flynn had needed to act quickly to cool her down. He was thanked, but he barely heard any of the meaningless chatter around him. He didn't take his eyes off Elsa until she was escorted into the castle. It had terrified him, how close he might have been to losing her that day. After that, she never visited him at the forge again and avoided fires as much as possible._

Max shoved Flynn aside, shaking him out of the memory, and kicked the door down with three strikes of his hooves. He couldn't fit through the opening, but Flynn dove through the smoke, coughing and hacking. He picked his way around rubble, peering around with watery eyes.

"Princess!" he shouted hoarsely. "Snowflake! Elsa!"

He heard a faint moan from the ground about five feet in front of him. Trapped under a smoldering beam lay his princess, breathing shallowly, but breathing. He jumped over debris and struggled to lift the heavy piece of wood off of her. When he heard her whimper in pain, that made a surge of strength rush through him and with a yell, tendons in his arms popping, he heaved the beam off of Elsa. He picked her up gently, carrying her bridal style. He slammed out of the warehouse seconds before a wave of heat consumed the wall closest to them and the building began to collapse in earnest.

He fell to the ground on his knees, cradling Elsa in his arms, her upper body resting in his lap. He stroked a hand across her soot-streaked face and caressed her cheek with his thumb. It was not much warmer than his own skin, but for Elsa, that was concerningly hot. What could he do to help her? He needed a plan, and fast.

"I can't just throw you in the harbor, Snowflake. It's too deep. I need you to wake up and use your powers to cool down. Put the ice in your clothes. Something. Anything. Please," he begged.

There was a pregnant pause during which she didn't move except for the shaky rise and fall of her chest. Than, eyes still closed, she began to move. Weakly, Elsa coated her clothing in a layer of ice that quickly melted. She repeated the process until a layer stayed and her breathing steadied.

"That's it. Good job, Elsa. You're doing great. You just rest and I'll get you to a doctor. I won't leave your side," he promised.

And he didn't. Not when the guard came to put out the fire. Not when Elsa was taken to the castle infirmary. Not when the staff asked him to leave and let her rest. He slept in a chair in her room under the watchful eye of Gerda. When Elsa woke, the maid stepped out to give them privacy to speak.

"How are you holding up?"

"Fine. I'm just embarrassed is all. I can't believe it. This was my one chance to prove that I was ready to join the guard and I screwed it up. I just reinforced their idea that I'm a princess that needs too be rescued," she sighed angrily.

She hissed in pain when she tried to sit up. "Easy!" Flynn soothed, jumping up to gently push her back into the pillows. "You bruised quite a few ribs there. It's a miracle none of them are broken. You need to take it easy."

"Stop mothering me. I can't believe you swooped in to save me again. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don't need you to protect me all the time like I can't!" Elsa shouted. "You took a stupid risk running in like that. You could have been hurt or worse!"

"What are you talking about? You know fire is your only weakness. You were all but unconscious. You needed _someone's_ help, and I was the one Max got. Just accept assistance when you need it. You don't have to be independent all the time!" he fired back.

"Yes I do," she retorted. "I can't rely on anyone as queen. I'll have to do that all by myself. I might as well practice self-reliance now. I can't afford to be weak."

"Me wanting to protect you has _nothing_ to do with the assumption that you're weak," Flynn snapped.

"Then what _does_ it have to do with?" Elsa snarked. "Tell me, my _hero_ , what exactly drives you to throw yourself into helping me out of trouble every time I get in it at the risk of your own safety?"

"The absolute conviction that you are precious to me!" Flynn yelled.

Elsa was silent for a long moment. "What?" she whispered.

"I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you," he admitted quietly. "You almost _died_. I was scared to death that I was going to lose you. Do you really not care about the fact that you could have been killed today?"

"Of course I care, Flynn. I just- I didn't know _you_ cared so much. I thought that _I_ was the one who would be devastated if anything happened to _you_. I thought you didn't need me as much as I need you," Elsa confessed.

"Is it really not obvious how I feel about you?" Flynn wondered. "I always thought you saw right through me and were too nice to say anything and outright turn me down."

"Nice isn't really my strong suit," she reminded him. "I thought that you wouldn't tease me so much with the flirting if you halfway meant it because I couldn't fathom you ever loving me the way I love you."

"You love me?"

"I have for a long time. Since we were kids, probably," she confessed.

"I feel the exact same way," he admitted.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Why didn't you ever say anything? And the flirting doesn't count," she said.

"I've read the stories. Princesses don't fall in love with former orphaned thieves turned blacksmith's apprentices," he murmured.

"I did," she returned. "Maybe our story is different."

She leaned forward and planted a kiss on his lips. He tenderly pressed his hands against her face and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. Her fingers tangled in his hair and they didn't break apart until they needed to breathe. Then they did it again.

"I don't understand," Elsa persisted when they broke apart the second time. "How can you love me? I'm- not entirely human. I'm dangerous and- and weird, and cold and-"

"Shhh," Flynn soothed. "You're perfect. To me, there is not a single thing you could do to be better, except maybe give yourself a little more credit. You've got a much better handle on your powers now, because you worked at it. You're beautiful, powerful, yes, dangerous, but in the best way. Have you seen yourself handle a sword? True artistry in the form of deadly skill. As for cold? Maybe on the surface, but you're a big softie on the inside. I'll keep you warm."

"You really don't mind all my strangeness?" Elsa checked.

"What do I always tell you?"

"That I'm wonderful?"

"And have I ever lied to you?"

"No."

"Then what's your answer?" Flynn prompted.

"You love me," Elsa smiled.

"And you love me, too," Flynn chuckled.

They drew closer together and kissed again. They were still kissing when Gerda came in with the breakfast tray. She looked back and forth between their guilty expressions for a moment, then grinned.

"It's about time!" she exclaimed. "I've been watching you two dance around each other for years. I can't believe it took you this long to just kiss already. Don't mind me. I'll just leave this here and leave you two lovebirds to make up for lost time."

She bustled out, leaving the two teenagers to meet eyes and burst out laughing.

"Gerda knew before us," Elsa snorted.

"Maybe next time she should be more forthcoming with important information," Flynn agreed.

"So what now?" she asked.

"It's like your very wise maid said: We make up for lost time," he replied simply, taking her face in his hands again and pressing his lips to hers.

She responded in kind and they didn't get to the breakfast tray until it had been cold for a long while.

A/N: Next up is more drama mixed with Felsa cuteness. Hans is coming back! Yay? Probably not yay. Oh well. Onwards and upwards!


	8. Hans, Ya Jerk

A/N: I don't own Tangled or Frozen, or my precious babies Flynn and Elsa. Sigh. Onwards and upwards!

Chapter 8: Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?

" _Hallo_ , my love," Flynn murmured with a smile, planting a tender kiss on Elsa's lips.

This was a few weeks after their first kiss and Elsa was off bedrest and back on her feet already running: mostly into the sparring ring. He knew it was killing her that she had lost some of the admiration of the guard. However, it wasn't because she got hurt and needed to be rescued like she'd thought, but because she'd gone it alone, leaving her comrades in arms out of it entirely, risking her life and jeopardizing the capture of a dangerous criminal. She was going crazy trying to figure out how to earn back the trust and respect she'd lost. Flynn couldn't help her regain the esteem of the soldiers, no matter how much he wished he could, but he could at least try and cheer her up and take her mind off the matter.

" _Hallo,_ " she replied shyly, twining her fingers with his.

The physical side of their relationship was still new. It felt like what she'd wanted for years had finally fallen in her lap, and she kept wondering when she would find out that it had all been a dream. Or when Flynn would wake up and realize he could do so much better than her. She had seen the way girls in the village and on the castle grounds sighed after him. He could have any one of them that he wanted, without having to skulk around in the shadows just to steal a kiss.

They were currently behind a fragrant flowering shrub, where Elsa had supposedly gone to read her assignment for literature class. Some of her other favorite spots in the garden for their rendezvous were the white rose bower, the willow tree, and the fountain in the middle of the hedge maze.

"Am I the first person you've ever kissed?" Elsa blurted suddenly.

Flynn seemed surprised by the question. "No," he admitted. Even though he'd adored Elsa forever, he'd lost hope for a long time that anything would happen, especially after Mr. Horton's lecture.

Her face fell and she just sighed a quiet, "Oh."

He gazed at her and shook his head at her disappointment. He lifted her chin and smiled at her warmly.

"But..." he continued. "You're certainly the best."

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her passionately. Her hands came up to grip his shoulders. When they broke for breath, they looked at each other, examining the depths of their significant other's eyes. When Flynn still saw self-doubt in Elsa's, he figured he'd have to suck it up and let go of his pride so he could honestly tell her how he felt in the clearest terms possible, which were quite sappy.

"Elsa, I am deliriously happy. I am absolutely thrilled that after these years of wondering if you felt the same way I did, I have confirmation that you do. You're wonderful, and I am lucky to have you love me. I am never going to change my mind about that, you hear me? Never," he swore.

"There are plenty of other girls who would love you and give you a lot less trouble about it than I do. You wouldn't have to be sneaky or be careful not to touch them when they got upset or..." she protested.

"But those girls have one thing going against them: they're not you," he insisted. "No trouble means anything to me as long as we face it together. And I like sneaky, remember?"

"My thief," Elsa smiled. "Of course you do. I want very much to continue this, but I have to at least finish this chapter to avoid the wrath of my tutors. Let's meet by the stables later."

"I look forward to it, Snowflake," he grinned. "Until later."

Elsa sat on the bench, reading her book. It was actually getting quite good. The hero had just revealed himself to be the disguised prince and was diving off a cliff to escape pursuit. She peered closer at the printed text, hoping it would give her the ability to read the words faster and find out if he successfully hit the water without drowning.

"Your Highness?"

Elsa lowered her book to see a maid she recognized from running across her dusting in the library a time or two, standing in front of her, looking nervous.

"Sorry to interrupt, Princess Elsa. There's a visitor waiting for you in the hall. Said you were previously acquainted," the maid announced with a hasty curtsey.

"Thank you, Miss. I'll see to it immediately," Elsa said, closing her book reluctantly. She wondered who this guest could be.

She strode through the doors to the hall as two guards, Marius and Quinn, opened them for her entry. The visitor was talking to her aunt and uncle. At the noise of her footsteps, he turned and Elsa stopped dead. He was older than before, grown even more handsome, still dressed impeccably, but he was most certainly Prince Hans Westergard of the Southern Isles.

"Princess Elsa. Lovely to see you again," he charmed, bowing and touching his lips to her hand.

She struggled not to yank it away. She and Flynn were together now. Even though their relationship was secret, it still felt like betrayal to let another man kiss so much as her hand. He dropped it after what felt like too long and smiled at her, but now that she knew what attraction looked like, she could see that the smile was oily and false. Ugh. She hadn't ever really liked him, but it was a little insulting that he only wanted her for her crown. Flynn told her she was gorgeous all the time, and even though he was a little biased, it had to be at least partially true.

"Prince Hans. What brings you back to Corona?" Elsa asked, trying and failing to keep the chill out of her voice.

"I've missed your company. I thought it was high time I came back to see you again, perhaps pick up where we left off?" he suggested.

"Given the way you fled the country after our last afternoon together, I was under the impression that you did not wish to see me again," Elsa reminded him.

"Elsa!" Aunt Arianna chided. "That's not how we speak to guests."

"No, Your Majesty," Hans defended. "She is right. My abrupt departure no doubt made it seem as though I was running away, but I assure you that was not the case. A sensitive matter arose at home with two of my brothers and I was called away immediately. I was not permitted to discuss details, but I had to leave quickly. I apologize for any appearance that I did not enjoy your company."

Elsa was glad that Hans was pretending to be chivalrous because she would have hated to upset her aunt, but there was no way she would apologize to this arrogant codfish who had ignored her during her tour of the castle that he'd insisted she give him. He had also been rude to Flynn, which was inexcusable.

"Prince Hans was hoping to sit in on your singing lessons since he missed out the last time he was here. You are excused from your deportment classes today as well," King Frederic stated.

 _Please don't make me. Why do either of you even like this snake?_ Elsa thought.

"Of course," is what she said. "They start in a few minutes actually. You can accompany me there. Good day, Uncle. Aunt."

Hans walked at her side to the music room. She reminded herself to try and be civil no matter her personal opinion of the prince. He seemed happy to stroll in silence, for which she was grateful. They arrived and her tutor gushed embarrassingly about how Prince Hans was in for a treat because Elsa was so talented vocally. Her voice had developed from a high, delicate sound into powerful ringing notes in a deeper register than she'd used as a child. She still liked singing with Flynn in the garden best, but singing lessons and performing for the court were not so bad.

The instructor set today's piece on the stand and Elsa did her breathing and vocal exercises while trying valiantly to ignore the stare of her one man audience. When she was ready, Elsa signaled Master Preminger at the piano. He started the introductory bars and she launched into the song, forgetting the presence of the prince.

 _I walked across... an empty land._

 _I knew the pathway like the back of my hand..._

 _I felt the earth... beneath my feet..._

 _Sat by the river and it made me complete..._

 _Oh simple thing..., where have you gone?_

 _I'm getting old and I need something to rely on..._

 _So tell me when... you're gonna let me in_

 _I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin..._

 _I came across... a fallen tree._

 _I felt the branches of it looking at me..._

 _Is this the place... we used to love?_

 _Is this the place that I've been dreaming of...?_

Elsa sang the refrain again:

 _Oh simple thing..., where have you gone?_

 _I'm getting old and I need something to rely on..._

 _So tell me when... you're gonna let me in_

 _I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin..._

The next stanza was her favorite part, though. The soaring notes always made her close her eyes to enjoy the sound.

 _And if... you have a minute, why don't we go..._

 _Talk... about it somewhere only we know?_

 _This... could be the end of everything_

 _So why don't we go... somewhere only we know?_

 _Somewhere only we know..._

 _And if... you have a minute, why don't we go..._

 _Talk... about it somewhere only we know?_

 _This... could be the end of everything_

 _So why don't we go... somewhere only we know...?_

 _Somewhere only we... know..._

 _Somewhere only... we... know..._

Elsa finished the piece and reopened her eyes. The prince actually looked impressed. She hadn't been sure he was capable of liking anything other than himself.

"Bravo, Princess Elsa. You truly have a gift," he complimented.

"Thank you, Prince Hans. I have worked since I was fourteen to develop it," she responded.

"Would you like to take a stroll through the gardens until time for your sword practice? Perhaps you can tell me about what it's like to train with soldiers. My knowledge of swordplay came from a tutor," he informed her conversationally.

"Certainly," she agreed, smiling tightly.

She could be polite. As queen, she would have to deal with far more unpleasant people, she was sure. This would be good practice. She was the picture of civility, and when it was time for her sparring, he actually clapped instead of sitting like a stump. Maybe he deserved the benefit of the doubt, a second chance.

She would come to decide that that was not true later, too late.

Flynn was on a heist. He had lifted some jewels from a lady's purse and was creeping away, kerchief pulled over his mouth and nose to hide all of his face but his eyes. Suddenly, there was an outcry as the woman noticed the lack of rubies. He broke into a sprint, dodging well-meaning passersby that were trying to help as well as a few of the guard. Luckily, they had never had Elsa duty, so they'd never seen him before. There was no chance of being recognized.

It was fairly easy to get away. The guard were good, but they couldn't vault over wagons and crates like he could, not in that heavy armor. He made his escape and snuck back into the castle grounds using one of the secret entrances in the south wall. He felt eyes on him, but he couldn't spot anyone when he scanned the environment. He shrugged it off, chalking it up to nerves. He was due to meet Elsa by the stables not long from now.

He stowed the loot under his cot to move to his woodland stash later. He was nearly there. Only a few more jobs and he could make the land deal and still have enough left to make it seem like he could contribute. Then he could ask for Elsa's hand. It was so close he could almost see it.

 _He would take her to their spot, under the willow. She would be smiling, but confused._

" _Where are we going?" she would ask._

" _Just a little farther," he'd reassure her._

 _Then they'd get there and there would be lanterns and gardenias and her eyes would sparkle as she gaped around at the scene he'd set up so carefully._

" _What is this?" she would ask, already guessing but so sure that it wasn't it._

 _Then he'd get down on one knee, totally suave, and look up at her and he'd pull out the ring, not diamonds, but sapphires since they were her favorite with a steel band resistant to the cold. There would be an inscription on the inside. He hadn't decided yet between "For my wonderful Snowflake" or "From your thief" or maybe "With Love Forever" in Arendellian. But it would be something she'd love. Anyway, he'd take out the ring and present it to her and then he'd pop the question._

" _Will you marry me?"_

 _And ideally, she'd just say yes and kiss him and let him put the ring on right away, but knowing Elsa she'd say something like "Really?" or "Are you sure? It's not too late to pick someone else." But he'd reassert his love for her and she would eventually say yes. And then he'd hold her in his arms even if she said she was too emotionally compromised to touch._

 _It would be perfect._

His daydream was interrupted by a gust of cold wind rushing under the door to his quarters and turning into a frost paper letter. He grinned. A note from Elsa, almost like she knew he had been thinking of her. He opened it, expecting to see a few rows of her neat handwriting sounding all proper asking him to meet somewhere. But that was not what he found. Her handwriting was scrawled hastily, smudged in places where the ink hadn't dried before her hand brushed against it. He could picture the frantic movement of her left hand holding the pen as she rushed to complete the missive.

 _Dearest Flynn,_

 _I don't know how, but Prince Hans has discovered a secret about you that he thinks is bad enough to make my uncle have you arrested, even killed. I'm coming to you as fast as I can. Get out and meet me by the secret entrance in the east wall. They're watching the south. Bring whatever you need to run. Please hurry._

 _All my love,_

 _Elsa_

Flynn shoved his newest acquisitions and everything he owned, which wasn't much, into his leather satchel Elsa had gotten him for his seventeenth birthday. It still had the white ribbon from the second gift she'd ever given him tied to the strap. He shouldn't bring anything heavy, but he brought his worn, well-read copy of _The Goose Girl_ that his princess had given him all those years ago, the first birthday present anyone had ever given him. Elsa was still the only one who did that for him. He left _The Tales of Flynnigan Rider_ behind. He ran as quietly and cautiously as possible while still maintaining speed to meet Elsa for what he desperately hoped wasn't the last time.

Elsa was sitting in her room, drafting a letter to Anna when Gerda burst in without knocking, which was quite unusual for her. Her eyes were panicked and she ran to Elsa nearly out of breath.

"Princess Elsa! Your Flynn is in trouble!" she gasped. "Prince Hans found out something terrible about him and is in the throne room right now showing off and trying to convince your uncle of the death penalty!"

Elsa was freaking out, but she kept it together. Any blizzard she made would hurt Gerda, the only person who knew about her and Flynn's love, their staunchest supporter. She helped them keep everything secret, covering for them, calling out warnings when someone was coming, and telling them the schedules of various people who might stumble across them in one of their secret spots so they could pick a safe time. Elsa couldn't lose control and risk her loyal maid.

"Alright. I'm going to get him out of the castle, hopefully out of the country. I need you to stall them as much as possible," she commanded.

"Right away, Your Highness!" Gerda saluted, bustling off.

She snatched at her quill and scrawled a hurried message on frost paper, sending it to Flynn the way she'd sent Olaf to the mountains on instinct. Hopefully he'd get it. She grabbed her stash of Arendellian currency she'd had in her trunk when she'd been sent to Corona years ago, all the portable foods she had hidden in her room, and her favorite dagger. What else did she need? She wrote a quick letter of reference giving Flynn passage into Arendelle on the ship of his choice, stamping it with both the royal seal of Corona and her personal one as princess of Arendelle.

She flash-froze the ink to dry it and stuffed it in the knapsack with the other supplies she'd thrown together. Feeling as ready as she could, she braved her old fears and used the rooftop shortcut to get to the east wall, shoving images of Flynn nearly falling to his death out of her head and replacing them with his tips for balance. She checked that the coast was clear and slid into the copse of trees by the east wall on an ice slide that collapsed behind her as she passed. He was standing there, packed like she'd said to be. It cut her to the quick, suddenly: this realization that this might be the last time she saw him for a very long time.

"What happened?" she asked. "What could you possibly have done so terrible to deserve this?"

 _What was worth risking our relationship so recklessly?_ she added silently.

In response, he pulled out a black bandana and held it against the lower half of his face. His wordless confession clicked. He was the masked bandit that the guard had been chasing for years. She had never felt compelled to help since he never hurt anyone and took trinkets from people who had gold to spare. Besides, he would get caught eventually. And she supposed he had been, now. He had never told her. It seemed like there was at least one lie between them after all. She had a hundred questions, but only one mattered.

"Why?"

"I was trying to get enough to buy a piece of land, so I wouldn't just be the blacksmith's apprentice. I wanted to be someone who could ask for your hand. Mr. Horton, that day in the garden, said anyone you married had to bring something to the table. This was the only way I could think of to do that," he confessed.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked.

"At first, I didn't know if you felt like that. It was a gamble. Then, I didn't want to give you false hope if it didn't work out. I didn't want to tell you until it was a sure thing," he explained.

"Flynn, you know that stuff doesn't matter to me, right?"

"But your family's blessing does," he shot back. "You love them, and they want the best for you. It isn't their fault that they think it's a prince. I didn't want to come to you with it until I was worthy, somebody they would pick for you."

"I don't want them to pick for me!" Elsa shouted. "I chose you, without trappings. That would have been enough. My aunt and uncle really like you, or they did. This might have ruined their opinion of you. Did you even think of that?"

"What do you think the mask was for?" he retorted. "I didn't plan on getting caught. How could I have guessed that Prince Jerkface would come back out for my blood?"

"Blessing or no blessing, I would have said yes. I'm not angry about the stealing, Flynn. I'm angry that you lied to me by omission. I'm angry that you thought so little of me to think that you needed to be one of the landed aristocracy that I typically avoid before I'd marry you. I would have abdicated if I thought that's what it would take. I'm furious that your recklessness led to this and that I might never see you again!" she snapped.

"Is it a possibility to stay and try to explain? I don't really want to leave you. We just got together. I don't want to miss out on any more time with you," Flynn said quietly, thinking about what she'd said. Abdicate? He couldn't let her give up everything she'd worked for on his account.

"Gerda said Hans was pushing for the death penalty. The law says that for this volume of thievery, that it's not an unreasonable punishment. I'd rather have you live a thousand miles away than die in front of me," Elsa insisted. "You have to go. Please. For me."

"Where?" he asked, giving in. How could he say no to her?

"Arendelle. I have some currency from home and a letter of passage. My sister knows about you. She'd hide you if you needed it. All you need to do is get from the castle to the Arendelle ship. It's here today with the mail and to pick up some imports. It leaves in an hour," Elsa replied, pressing the pack into his hands.

He captured her hands before she could pull away. They searched each other's faces.

"Are we okay?" he asked in a murmur.

"I honestly don't know. I'm hurt that you've been a notorious criminal for years and never said a word to me. Even before I was your girlfriend, I was your best friend. I'm angry that this mistake means that I have to be apart from you. But I love you no matter what, my thief," Elsa promised, stepping closer.

"I love you, too, Snowflake. I'll miss you more than I can stand," he answered.

They kissed desperately, a last goodbye. They broke the kiss slowly, reluctantly. They hugged tightly for a long moment. They stepped back, still clasping hands.

"I'll let you know when it's safe to come back, somehow. Be safe, Flynn. _Farvel_ ," Elsa whispered.

"I will," Flynn promised his princess. " _Farvel._ "

They heard yells come from not too far away.

"Go!" she shouted, shoving him towards the secret exit.

"He's trying to abduct the princess!" Hans' voice called. "Shoot to kill!"

"NO!" she shrieked.

The soldiers burst through the trees and she tried to reassure them she was fine, but they had swords drawn and crossbows raised. One young lieutenant shot a bolt and she saw it pierce Flynn's shoulder. He slammed the gate of the secret exit shut behind him, but before the door closed, she saw his grimace of pain and a flash of red welling up. Blood. The love of her life was bleeding. Maybe to death. He was being hunted like an animal.

Elsa fell to her knees. She felt the emotions surging to the surface and she hugged herself tightly, desperately trying to hold the storm inside of her. Her eyes were screwed shut and her teeth ground together so hard they squeaked audibly. She trembled as she felt the chill steal into her bones and fought to keep out out of her heart. She couldn't remember her meditation breathing or any of her control tricks learned from Flynn. Flynn. Precious Flynn, so badly hurt. As the ice crept closer to her core, she screamed in agony over the internal struggle, over her worry for Flynn. There was no giant snow pile to channel her fear into, so it exploded out of her into a tornado of ice and snow.

She stared in horror as it grew and formed into a giant snow monster. It was as tall as three men, enormous and terrifying. Its hollow, sunken eyes glowed blue and the ice that jutted from its hands, feet, joints, and back spiked higher. She had made this, this terrible thing.

The soldiers, temporarily forgetting Flynn like she couldn't, cried out and tried to pull her backwards to safety, but the monster's head swung towards them. It released a roar of pure rage. It was angry, so angry, like she was angry. It didn't want them to touch her because she didn't want to be touched, not when the only person whose touch she wanted was wounded. It swiped at the guards but Elsa jumped in the way. She was knocked into a tree. The monster keened, reaching for her more gently. It was _sorry._ Like Olaf, it didn't just move. It _felt_. It was _alive._

It wanted her, so that's what she would give it. She would go in the opposite direction Flynn was running in and draw the monster, and thus the guards, away. She hadn't meant to do it, but it was a good distraction. Unfortunately, the route she needed to take moved through town, but if she did her job as bait, she would keep the people safe and the soldiers away from Flynn. She struggled up, sprinting for the stables as fast as her unsteady legs would carry her.

She heard the monster wail behind her. It hadn't wanted her to avoid its grasp. She whistled for Max and leapt astride his back when they met. Seeing its goal about to ride away, the monster roared again and charged, lumbering closer. She kicked Max into a gallop and drew it out of the main gate, then to the side, away from the harbor, towards the forest. People screamed and dove out of the way. The monster damaged a few shops, but no injuries that she could see were more serious than a scrape or two.

She made it to the forest, dismounting for Max and ordering him out of danger. He didn't want to listen, but he did. Loyal as ever. The monster caught up to her at the cliffs. It picked her up in its icy claws before she could move with the utmost gentleness. Yet, the grip was iron. There was no escaping. She pushed against the hand that held her.

"Let me go!"

The creature whined. It wanted to keep her safe. Safe from the men who hurt Flynn. How could it do that if she ran away? She understood. Her feelings of anger, betrayal, anxiety, and a desire to be protected from the ugly truth that Flynn was hurt had turned into this creature, who only wanted to fulfill that desire to be protected. It hadn't liked the guards grabbing her or Maximus taking her away. Of course. It made perfect sense. She couldn't hurt it. But she couldn't keep it either. She had to send it to Olaf and make it look like she defeated it if she didn't want to be cast in suspicion.

The soldiers arrived in a thunder of hoofbeats, led by Prince Hans. Her creature backed up, snarling at the men. Unfortunately, it backed up towards a cliff that began to crumble underneath them. Another step or so backwards and she'd fall with her creation to the bottom of the ravine.

"Stop! Don't come any closer," Elsa commanded. "If it takes another step back, we'll go over." The guards halted. "Toss me a sword instead. I think I can beat it if I have a weapon. I have one arm free."

She was obliged and caught the blade easily. The monster moaned uncertainly.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. She felt like the monster understood. "You'll be okay."

She sliced off the arm that held her, causing it to collapse into snow. The monster roared at the loss of the limb, performing its role of adversary to perfection. It grew another arm and swiped at her, but she rolled out of the way. They went back and forth for a minute or so, then she sliced off a leg just above the knee, causing it to stagger back. Just before it went over the edge, she stabbed it in the center of the chest with the sword, coated in her power issuing one command: Send him to Olaf.

With a last rumbling cry, he dissipated in a flurry of sparkling flakes that drifted away on a sudden wind. The guard stood in shock for a moment before springing into action congratulating her with slaps on the back, which made her wince thanks to the bruises from crashing into the tree. She felt herself lifted onto shoulders, dimly registering the shouts of praise. She was placed onto Max's back and escorted back up the hill, through the city. Her procession turned into an impromptu parade. People were calling her name.

"Hooray for Princess Elsa!"

"Our Elsa!"

Defender of Corona!"

She was just barely aware of Prince Hans and the guards reciting the tale, somewhat exaggerating her role, speculating that Flynn had somehow made the creature to aid in his escape. Had he escaped? Was he alright? These were the thoughts she was consumed with as she was celebrated all the way back to the castle.

 _Please, God,_ she prayed silently. _Let him be safe._

A/N: Wow! Looks like I lied. This was another long one. Sorry! Next up, Flynn in Arendelle (Anna time!) and Elsa stepping into her role as Corona's champion. Also, Hans gets what's coming to him. To be continued...


	9. Victory and Loss

A/N: Again, I do not own, have never owned, and likely will never own Frozen or Tangled. Oh, well.

Chapter 9: I Could Go Running and Racing...

The impromptu parade was over and Elsa now stood before her aunt and uncle in her uncle's study. Now was the time she had dreaded on the ride up the hill: she had to answer questions about the snow creature... and Flynn.

"Elsa, my dear girl, why were you at the emergency exit with Flynn Rider? What happened?" King Frederic asked.

Hearing his name was like a punch to the gut, but Elsa remained composed. "He asked me to meet him, confessed to being the masked bandit that has been plaguing the guard for years, and we argued. I told him he was being reckless, and I was hurt that he had never said anything to me."

"Do you think it was him that created that... creature?" Queen Arianna asked.

"No. He may have kept a big secret from me, but I know Flynn," she insisted, her voice cracking on his name despite her best efforts. "If he had some ability like that in his toolkit, he would certainly have used it before now, to aid in escaping or pulling off heists. He was never one to let an advantage go to waste."

"What if the advantage lay in no one knowing about his abilities until it was absolutely necessary? Element of surprise and all that," her uncle reasoned, stroking his beard.

"The monster specifically attacked _me_. It followed me when the soldiers were clearly the more immediate threat. Flynn would never have done something to willfully hurt me, so he couldn't have made the creature," Elsa responded.

"Elsa, my dear, I know you may not want to hear this, but Flynn deceived you about his criminal activities for years. Perhaps you do not know him as well as you think," her aunt suggested quietly.

"It isn't about how much I care for him or what I feel," Elsa explained. "It's about his past track record. Not even a month ago, he risked his life to save mine. He could have told the guards I was in trouble and waited for them to return. No one would have blamed him for not going personally. But he did. He rode Max nearly into the ground and ran into a burning building to get to me. That is only the most recent example. Time and again, Flynn has proven that he puts my safety above all else. There is ample evidence against him ever so much as raising a hand against me, let alone siccing a monster on me with potentially deadly force."

"I believe you are right, Elsa. The facts certainly point away from Flynn being the culprit behind the snow monster. Thank you for your input," Frederic relented. Elsa inclined her head with respectful gratitude.

"However, I would like to know why he wanted to meet with you. You would have found out on your own soon enough, and it delayed his escape, nearly making it so he did not escape at all. What was so important that he would jeopardize a clean getaway?" Arianna prompted.

Elsa couldn't tell them she'd called the meeting and had aided in his escape. She couldn't even tell them the real reason he'd stolen so much without casting her motives in suspicion. She had to come up with an excuse that would justify his actions.

"He asked me to run away with him," she blurted.

"What?" the king and queen exclaimed in unison.

"I said no. My duties are here. My life is here. I told him I couldn't leave Corona to go 'wherever my feet took me,' as he put it," Elsa clarified.

"We're glad you feel that way, dear girl," Aunt Arianna smiled. "Because we have something important to tell you."

"For too long, Corona has been without a princess," the king began. "In these past six years, you have become like a daughter to us, and today you proved yet again that you are willing to put yourself at risk for the safety of the kingdom. For these reasons and more, we would be honored to officially crown you as princess of Corona and future heir to the throne should our Rapunzel not return. Every year without so much as the smallest sign of her, it becomes easier to assume the worst. We would like to announce our intentions to name you as our successor. We've broached this subject before, made our intentions clear, but it is obvious now that the people adore you as much as we do. We'd like to make it official. What do you say?"

Elsa thought for a long time. She was truly touched that her family loved and respected her so much as to think she was capable of ruling two kingdoms, but she meant what she said to Flynn in the garden the night of her first ball. She didn't want to take this from her cousin. She had been standing in Rapunzel's rightful spot for far too long. She didn't want to turn down such an honor, but she had an alternative suggestion.

"I am truly honored that you trust me with such a duty, and I accept the title of Corona's princess," Elsa began. "However, I have a proposal. I don't wish to replace my cousin if there is any chance she can be found. I am honored to be Corona's princess, but I would like to perform the role of its protector as well."

"Elsa, dear, what are you saying?" her aunt asked.

"The people today hailed me as the defender of Corona, and I would like very much to do more to deserve that name. I have trained with the guard for the entirety of my time here, and I want to ride with them, help head the search for the lost princess. She deserves to have her parents and her place on the throne, and you deserve to have your daughter back," Elsa pronounced.

"Do you truly think you can find her, after all these years?" her uncle asked.

"I know that I will try to the best of my ability, and that I won't stop until we know what happened to her," Elsa replied honestly.

Her uncle thought for a while, with Elsa waiting in silence, holding her breath. "You have been working for nearly half your life at this. It would be a shame to waste your talents and efforts by denying it to you. If Captain Renard approves, you may aid in the search for Rapunzel as well as assist the guard in any other matters he deems necessary."

"Thank you, Uncle. I swear to you that I will make you proud," Elsa promised.

"Oh, my dear girl, you already have, in spades," her uncle laughed.

He opened his arms and Elsa felt she had enough control to grant him a hug, so she embraced him tightly and felt her aunt's arms encircle her from the other side. It was very nice, this hug. It made her wonder how she had been so afraid of herself all these years that she'd never even tried to brave physical contact. She was never going to flinch away from her family's touch again.

Elsa walked out of the throne room and straight into Prince Hans, who must have been hovering outside the door. He was smiling charmingly with a look of affected concern in his eyes. He was reaching for her shoulder as if to comfort her and opened his mouth as if intending to spout some nonsense about how he had to turn Flynn in, but never meant to hurt her.

"Ugh. You again," she grumbled.

"I'm sorry?" he spluttered, clearly caught off guard by her open disgust towards him.

"You ought to be, after everything you've done," she snapped. "Walk with me. We have matters to discuss in private."

She strode away at a brisk pace to an unused storage room down the hall, leaving him to stumble after her. She yanked him inside and shut the door, standing in front of his exit.

"I don't understand, Princess Elsa. What have I done?" he stammered. "Why are you being so abrasive?"

"We'll get to what you've done in a minute. As for my abrasiveness, tact clearly wasn't working to dissuade you, so I'm trying blunt honesty. I don't like you. I haven't since the second time I saw you, you conniving, underhanded snake," Elsa stated plainly. "You quite obviously only ever wanted me for my crown, having no interest in who I am as a person. What I don't understand is what your plan was here. If your goal was to get me to like you, or heaven forbid, fall in love with you, exactly how did you plan to accomplish that by getting my best friend nearly arrested or killed? A much more effective tactic would have been to plead for lenience and have me be eternally grateful for your role in sparing my dearest friend."

Hans dropped the wounded act and let his true icy demeanor show. "That was never a possibility. I didn't just need your esteem and affection. I needed Rider out of the way entirely. I saw you together the night of the ball. Any blind fool could see that you two were in love with each other," he sneered.

Elsa tried not to let that sting. She had to have been worse than a blind fool not to have seen it sooner. Maybe then they could have had more time together before he was snatched away from her. Maybe he wouldn't have been snatched away at all.

"That must have been how you managed to see it, then," she retorted, covering her guilt with a biting reply.

"I thought it was pathetic, the way he trotted after you like a dog after its mistress. A peasant in love with a princess? It was almost sad. But then when I realized that you loved him back? Well, I was insulted, for one thing. Him over a prince? For another, I was appalled. How could a royal love a commoner? Filthy," he gagged mockingly.

"You disgust me. A good ruler cannot lead his people without compassion and respect for all of his subjects, no matter how lowborn. Flynn Rider may be a thief, but he is more of a gentleman than you will ever be. At his core, he is a good person. At yours, you're a spoiled rotten brat with no regard for anyone other than himself," Elsa snapped.

Hans stepped forward and caged her with his arms against the door. He loomed over her with an evil grin.

"I would not speak to me that way if I were you, Princess," he hissed.

"Are you really this stupid?" Elsa laughed.

"Why are you laughing?" he growled.

He looked a bit unbalanced. This clearly wasn't going how he had expected.

"Because unlike you, I paid attention during our conversations. You see, you were trained in the gentleman's sport of fencing. I, on the other hand, have been trained by soldiers in mortal combat. You were taught to fight like it's a game. I was taught to fight as though for my own life. The long and short of it?" Elsa asked, knocking his arms away and pinning him to the wall with an elbow against his throat and a dagger poised at his side. She leaned in close, a devilish smirk on her lips, and whispered sweetly. "It was drilled into my brain that when I fight, I fight to kill."

Hans gulped against the pressure of her elbow, true fear in his eyes. "You wouldn't. It would mean war between our countries."

"That is of no concern. The Southern Isles is a tiny nation with an even smaller army, and who is to say they would ever find your body? I grew up looking for secret passages in this castle. I know the locations of no fewer than six less than two minutes' walk from here, accounting for the delay of dragging a corpse. I could quite easily sneak you out and bury you under a shrub in the cover of darkness. It would not be hard," Elsa purred. "You have run off without explanation before. It is entirely plausible that you would do it again, and sea voyages are so dangerous this time of year. I hardly think anyone would care to look for you."

She was bluffing, of course. Elsa never wanted to hurt anyone that badly ever again, not after Anna. But she had no qualms about scaring the living daylights out of this insufferable idiot.

"What can I do to change your mind?" he pleaded in a strangled voice.

"Never come near me or my family ever again, including those here and in Arendelle. If you ever encounter me again and get on my bad side, I will not just kill you. I will dismantle you piece by piece in screaming agony and will only let you die when I am finished with you," she said, hoping he hadn't read the book she was quoting from.

"Yes, Princess," he promised.

She let him go and he ran from the room. He was gone by the end of the day, and she felt an enormous satisfaction that she was the cause. That threat would never trouble her and her loved ones ever again. Maybe this day wasn't a total loss.

Flynn was having a bad day.

First, he got exposed as a master thief, then had a fight with his girlfriend about said thievery, then was chased down by guards and shot in the shoulder for the same reason. Now, he was on a boat to a foreign country miles and miles away from his one true love. As he stared back the way they came, trying to make out a sliver of Corona on the horizon, he ached with loneliness. Questions were churning in his head. How long would it be before he saw her again? Would she even want to see him? And the most important question of all: Should he even see her again?

Had he been kidding himself that he was what was best for her? She had said that she would give up everything for him. Her title, her birthright, her family. He may not have known much about true love, but he knew that it meant you put the other person first. He couldn't let her throw away everything she'd spent her life working for. The only way he could think of to stop her was to make her mad at him, enough that she would keep pursuing her dreams. It didn't matter that his dream wouldn't be complete without her in it.

A rougher wave jostled the boat, knocking his sore shoulder into the railing. He yelped in pain, clutching the wounded area. He felt warm blood ooze out anew from beneath the hasty bandage. He ducked away to a rear deck and rummaged through the pack from Elsa. He smiled when his frantic fingers found fresh bandages. That was his princess, always prepared. He bound up the gash again, making sure no blood was peeking through. The sailors might start to question the legitimacy of his letter of passage if they found out he had a hole the exact diameter of a guard's crossbow bolt in his arm.

He had to fix up his shoulder a few times over the next week and a half on the sea voyage. He thanked any celestial being that might have been responsible that it hadn't gotten infected, which could have spelled death for him, meaning Elsa's hard work to get him out would have been for nothing. He wondered how she had distracted them so thoroughly that none had bothered to pursue him to the docks.

He worked as well as he could with his injury to help out on the ship during his time there. The crew was nice. They taught him a few Arendellian words he didn't yet know and he showed them a couple of Coronan card games. Overall, it was a pleasant journey. The only trouble they encountered was a minor storm and they arrived at their destination only a couple days off schedule. He thanked the seamen for letting him tag along and took his leave, looking around.

There were far fewer plants and the land was much flatter around the castle, only rising into mountains by the cliffs on the other side of the fjord. The colors were much more muted than his home kingdom, both in clothing and architecture. The streets were wide, straight avenues completely unlike the winding cobbled alleys of home. The people seemed much more reserved. He supposed that meant that it wasn't just sailors from Arendelle that weren't particularly chatty. On the bright side, that meant he wouldn't need a master command of the language to get around. People probably wouldn't even try to talk to him if the way they silently nodded and waved at neighbors they actually knew was any indication.

"Psst. Flynn Rider?" a young female voice whispered from behind a pillar in the market square.

Well, he had been wrong before.

"Who goes there?" he called softly in Arendellian, peering into the shadows.

A girl stepped out from behind the pillar. She was wearing a cloak that hid the upper portion of her face.

"My sister told me to expect you," the girl murmured in accented Coronan. "I am to take you to the castle and hide you for as long as you need."

"Anna?" Flynn asked in a perfectly normal volume of speaking voice.

"SHHHH!" she hissed frantically, covering his mouth with her hands. She had to stand on her tiptoes to do it, being a bit on the short side. "Nobody can know it's me. That's why I'm wearing this cloak. Ultimate secrecy. We're trying to be covert here."

"Because nothing says covert like a cloak in summer and loud shushing while jamming your hands against someone's face," Flynn snarked.

The effect of his sarcasm was somewhat diminished by the fact that his words were muffled by the young princess' fingers.

"Oh. Well, the cloak stays to conceal my identity, but you're right about the other stuff," Anna relented, removing the offending appendages from his lips. "Come on," she urged, grabbing his hand and dragging him over to a horse with a really neat-looking buzzed black and white mane.

"Wow, you're strong," he commented as she shoved him up onto the horse.

She slid up in front of him to ride sidesaddle and put his hands on the reins. She guided them with her own to steer the horse to the castle. They rode in silence until they had stabled the horse and he'd been smuggled into an ignored storage room near Anna's chambers. It had some meager furniture: a lamp, a bed, nightstand, wash basin, and chamber pot, like a hastily assembled guest room. It was still pretty fancy digs compared to his room in a shed near the forge.

Once she'd hastily closed the door, his small guide finally threw back the hood and he got a good look at her face. She was pretty. He could see the resemblance to Elsa. They had the same eye color, but where Elsa's hair was so pale blonde it was nearly white, Anna's was primarily pale red with a single white streak. Elsa had told him about that magical remnant of the accident and that Anna had no idea about where it had come from or that she'd been hurt at all.

While he had been examining her, she had been doing the same to him, eyes roaming to take him in. She nodded in satisfaction.

"You're handsome," she said bluntly. "I can see what Elsa likes about you. Since I only ever knew what you looked like from descriptions in letters, I was a little worried that Elsa had exaggerated just because she liked you. But nope. You live up to expectations so far."

"Um, thanks?"

"You're welcome. So, according to my sister's note sent on the special fast emergency mail ship, you stole a bunch of stuff and got in trouble for it, correct?" she continued, pulling no verbal punches.

"Yes, that pretty much sums it up," he agreed in a stammer.

"Why?" Anna asked.

"Why what?" he asked back.

"Why did you do it? Steal all that stuff when you had a home and a job and a sweetheart? What was worth the risk of losing all that?" she clarified.

"Well, um... it was supposed to be... I mean, I wanted..." he sighed. "I was trying to build a dowry so I could ask for Elsa's hand," he finished in a mutter.

Anna gasped and squished her face with her hands. "That is so _romantic_ ," she squealed quietly.

"Less romantic now that I'm no longer even in Corona," he sighed. "I miss her already."

"You'll make it back someday and be together," the young princess said confidently. "True love always finds a way."

Flynn decided not to tell her about his plan in progress to make Elsa so furious with him that she'd move on to do great things as queen.

"I mean, she's going to need something to cheer her up after Momma and Papa send her the letter I saw them writing," she continued, "Might as well be you."

"Wait, wait. Her parents are finally sending her a letter? Is she coming back here? And what do you mean, cheer her up?" Flynn interrupted.

"Well, they're passing her over for the throne... in favor of me. I may or may not have done a lot of yelling urging them to not do that. Also kicking. And perhaps even throwing things a little," she admitted,

"You threw things at your parents for naming you the future queen?" Flynn asked, puzzled even though he felt very much like doing some yelling and throwing things at Elsa's parents for more than one reason.

"I threw a bust of my great grandfather through their study window for writing Elsa out of the thing she's been working at for her whole life. It isn't fair. They wouldn't even tell me why. They said she wasn't 'safe' for Arendelle, whatever that means," Anna explained. "Because she trained with the guard in Corona? That just means she could lead troops into battle herself or something, which would be amazing. They wouldn't explain it to me."

"That's awful. Elsa worked so hard. I was there. I helped her review the flashcards about different diplomatic procedures. I helped her learn the minuette. I watched her recite her elocution exam speech perfectly and saw how proud she was of herself. I witnessed her grow up from a tiny, fierce princess trying to figure out how to be herself in a new place into a strong woman who is ready to rule a country single handedly and do an amazing job of it. I was there for every little victory and now her own parents are taking it all away from her," he growled, punching a wall with the hand attached to his good arm.

"I know," Anna sighed. "I only really know my sister from letters, but I know she's great at this. She may not like court manners and politics, but she would have been amazing at them."

"Nobody commands a room like her," Flynn agreed.

"So," Anna abruptly changed the subject, "this is your room. I'm going to sneak food to you and there's a hole for you to empty the chamber pot. I'm going to try and get you some money and when you're ready to move on, I'll help you get there. If we need him, Kristoff is on standby, too."

"Who's Kristoff?" Flynn asked.

"My beau. He's an ice harvester. We met when we were kids and spent years playing together. We grew up, fell in love, and the rest is history. We're going to be married one day," Anna chirped happily.

"What about your parents? If you're going to be queen, won't they make you marry a prince?" Flynn muttered bitterly, remembering Hans the Pompous Jerkface of the Southern Isles.

"They can try," Anna laughed with a manic grin. "I'll threaten to abdicate. If it turns out that they don't mind some distant cousin on the throne, then I'll elope with Kristoff. I don't need much and there are other countries with ice for him to harvest. My Russian is excellent."

"Sounds like a plan," Flynn assented.

He wished it was a viable plan for Elsa and him. Even without Arendelle's crown, Corona's still rested on Elsa's head. The lost princess wasn't coming back. There was still so much left for her to lose. He couldn't be selfish. He'd try to move on as soon as possible and get out of her sister's way.

"Goodnight, Flynn," Anna said softly, slipping out.

"Goodnight, Anna."

He laid back on his borrowed bed and sighed deeply. He wondered what his princess was doing now, if she was thinking of him too, and if she'd hate him forever for what he was planning to do.

A/N: Suspense! Ha ha ha ha! Just kidding about the evil laughter. See you next chapter, where we see a broad view of what our star-crossed lovers are up to as the years go by between "now" and Tangled.


	10. Flynn Abroad

A/N: I own neither Frozen nor Tangled. Would a Disney writer have time and inclination for fanfic? This is a serious question. I don't know the answer. Would they write fanfic about their own stories? I think I would, if I were them. Are they allowed to? These ramblings are what happen when I get tired of typing the disclaimer. Onwards and upwards!

Chapter 10: We Used to Be Best Buddies, But Now We're Not

Flynn stayed with Anna for a few weeks, planning out where to go next. They spent time together as often as Anna could sneak away. They mostly shared Elsa stories. He particularly liked the one about the time Elsa and Anna stole some chocolate cakes from the kitchens and somehow wound up on the roof of the stable with no way down until they were found and rescued, then promptly punished for being tiny scoundrels. Anna nearly swooned at the story of how he helped her learn fancy ball dances. She really liked the stories about them being "cute together," as she put it. He obliged her, even though it sent a pang through his heart every time he talked about the good old days that felt longer ago than they should have.

Anna was so different from Elsa, so bubbly and energetic, never concealing what she thought or felt. Elsa was just as tenacious and brave as her sister, but generally quieter and calmer. Anna seemed to be made of pure joy and sunbeams. He missed companionable silences with his princess, given that silences of any kind were rare with her sister around, but Anna was fun. She taught him how to ride a bike in secret and he showed her what he knew about knot-tying and escape from ropes around the wrists. It was a good few weeks, but Flynn needed to get a move-on.

His departure was more abrupt than he would have cared for. The guards discovered the missing food and were onto the fact that there was someone hiding in the castle. Anna got Kristoff to smuggle him to the western border using the ice business as cover. The blond giant seemed intimidating to Flynn, but Anna insisted that he was a big teddy bear. The reindeer seemed as mistrustful of Flynn as most animals. Despite any tension, he made it out and, after a few weeks hiking through mostly uninhabited Russian land, he wound his way through several smaller countries until he stopped for a bit in much sunnier Qamar. He thanked his lucky stars that Arabic had been one of the languages Elsa had taught him pretty well.

On his long hike, he had traded service for provisions directly at any place with a hint of civilization. Now, using all of the little skills he'd picked up over the years working at the castle, he did some odd jobs for cash and shelter, thievery having lost its luster. However, he spread several rumors that he was behind a few high-profile thefts that the real perpetrators were smart enough to not take credit for. They didn't mind not having heat on them.

Why did he make it seem like he was still a world-class thief? He was trying to make it seem like he hadn't changed a bit from his roguish ways so Elsa would forget about him. She deserved everything she'd worked for and he wasn't about to ruin it. He was watering camels at a bazaar not far from the Sultan's palace in Agrabah when he received a letter that told him his efforts weren't working. A frigid wind swept over the hot sand and gusted into his face with cooling relief, dropping a frost paper letter into his hands.

 _Dearest Flynn,_

 _What in heaven's name are you doing? I thought that the point of escaping was to lay low. I have managed to hear of your exploits without even seeking out news of you. If my aunt and uncle so wished, they could easily write to the Sultan and have you extradited back here to face the gallows. Thievery is what got you into this mess in the first place. I thought you would have the sense not to continue the practice. Flynn, I am worried about you. Please, if you care anything for me, be more subtle and be_ _safe_ _. I love you as fondly as the stars love the night. Stay alive._

 _May God protect you,_

 _Elsa_

Guilt gnawed at him for making her worry, but he knew it was for her own good in the long run. Obviously, she was disappointed in him for "stealing" but not enough to give up on him. What was left to do that would be a betrayal so deep that she would never forgive him? He cast his eyes around and they landed on a woman draped in gauzy orange veils that covered little. She caught him looking, but instead of being angry that he was staring, she smiled at him and beckoned with a come-hither smile.

Of course. The solution had landed in his lap. There was nothing women valued in a man more than fidelity. If he made it seem like he had forgotten about Elsa, it would break her heart, but she'd never want to see him again and she could move on with her life.

In the _Tales of Flynnigan Rider_ , the protagonist had been a ladies' man in that he never had the same woman with him for to adventures, sometimes switching in the middle of one story. If he was going to model himself after his childhood literary hero, why not go all the way?

He tossed the icy missive into the dust, watching it melt into droplets that quickly evaporated, then turned and followed the veiled woman down an alley. Time to play the part of the roguish womanizer. He wasn't sure he could pull it off.

He realized he'd maybe pulled it off a little too well four girls later when he was bolting down the street away from turbaned guards armed with scimitars. The only warning he'd gotten was a frost paper note from Elsa very curtly informing him in no uncertain terms that he was a scoundrel and a liar and she didn't want to see him again except on the other side of a set of bars.

He ducked into a harem where one of his past "ladies of the night" had worked. There was a benefit to these "romances" besides making Elsa mad enough to move on with her life. His lady friends were more than willing to help him out of sticky situations in exchange for his affections, it seemed. She and her friends helped disguise him in swaths of fabric that covered everything but his eyes. It was sweltering hot, so it wasn't pleasant, but better than getting a body part lopped off. It seemed that at the prodding of Elsa's family, the Sultan had decided that Flynn had overstayed his welcome in Agrabah. Flynn used his disguise to make it to the border and leave behind Qamar altogether.

The next stop was less of a stop and more of a very long sea voyage lasting seven months, around the cape of Africa. Flynn didn't mind. He liked the freedom of the open sea. He learned so much about sailing from the friendly crew, a mix of Qamarain new hires and the old hands from Britain. Flynn's English wasn't very impressive, but the seamen didn't mind, teaching him that skill alongside navigation and how to work the sails.

When they stopped at a port, he continued to spread the rumors about his legendary thievery and skill with the ladies. They actually managed to accidentally time a few of their stopovers with some well-known thefts, but his storytelling was decent enough that general belief was that he'd stolen some things that were never actually stolen, maybe didn't even exist in the first place. His reputation was building impressively.

The only drawback to the open ocean was flinching at every chillier than average breeze, half expecting a supernatural storm cooked up by his ex-girlfriend to blow them all to the bottom of the depths. Otherwise, it was perfect. Sun above, waves below, a beautiful horizon always ahead. A man could get used to a view like this: vast expanses of water and sky on all sides. Possibilities felt endless out there.

At last, they landed in Spain and he bid the crew goodbye in English and Arabic. The sunny warmth of this country was much better than the icy wastes of Siberia and the scorching desert of Qamar. A happy meteorological medium. In his travels, it had become abundantly clear to Flynn that he preferred beaches to most landscapes, especially mostly uninhabited ones where the only sounds were the surf and the seabirds. He stayed in El Puerto de Santa Maria for several pleasant months. He dialed back on the thievery stories and the amorous affairs, simply enjoying doing whatever work came to him. He didn't care for fishing, but it was what was available most of the time.

One day, he couldn't find any work. Nobody had any jobs for him to do. That wouldn't be a problem except that he was out of food and money for food. He would have to try an alternative revenue stream. He strolled down the street, wishing he had his mandolin to play for change. He could at least get a hot roll or something. No sooner than he was pining for his instrument, he heard someone playing one. He followed the sound to a young girl, a bit younger than Anna, with a curtain of dark hair common to this part of the world. She sat on a blanket, expertly plucking a melody from the strings. She was good, but the cup in front of her was nearly empty. The song ended and he approached her.

"You know, you'd probably get more money if you sang, too," he advised in Spanish, the only language he knew nearly as well as Arendellian.

She eyed him warily and laughed, "That would be true if I didn't sound like a tortured cat when I tried to so much as hum. I don't have the voice for it. Don't suppose you'd be interested in a partnership where you did the singing and we split the profit, would you?"

Flynn thought. Somehow, singing with another girl besides Elsa felt like more of a betrayal than anything he'd done since getting run out of Corona. He didn't think he could bring himself to do it, but he needed cash and fast. The only skill he had left was telling tall tales. Maybe that could work.

"I don't sing," he said to the girl on the blanket. "But I'm a decent storyteller. What do you say I spin the words and you provide background music that fits the mood? Minor chords for sadness, fast tempo for suspense, major chords for the happy ending and such."

"I don't know," the girl hesitated. "Talking to music isn't typical. You sure you can't sing?"

"Oh, come on. Songs tell stories on their own. It's not so different. Give it a try. What do you have to lose? If it doesn't work, you can ditch me and take the cash to another corner to try again on your own," he cajoled.

"Well, alright. I'll give it a chance, but the moment it fails, I'm leaving you and taking the coin with me," she relented.

"Deal," Flynn agreed. "So, what story to tell...?"

"Hurry up and make up your mind," the girl prodded, sticking out her tongue.

"Alright, you little tyrant," he teased.

He still was searching his brain for a tale when he realized he could simply tell his own story, a little dressed up, of course. It was the story he knew best, after all.

"Come one, come all to hear the tale of the Thief and the Snow Queen," he called, and the girl plucked out a building tune of anticipation. "Once upon a time, there was a boy who had no name, and a princess cursed from birth to never be warm. They were born hundreds of miles apart, so it should have been unlikely that they would meet, but it was fated in the stars."

A few people had begun to slow and wander closer. So far, so good. He continued, remembering all of the theories they'd come up with for why Elsa had her powers when they were children.

"When the princess's mother was pregnant, she loved to wander the woods that surrounded her mountain kingdom. One day, she happened across a deep stream. She was terribly thirsty, so she stopped to take a drink. The water was cool and sweet, so she drank several sips. When she stood, standing mere feet from her, across the stream, was a haggard man, an axe dangling limply from his hand. He said, 'Please, can you help me get a drink of water? I'm so tired after working in the woods all day, I'm afraid I'll fall in.' The young queen wanted to help, but she had been warned of strangers in the woods, so she told him she could not aid him. His eyes blazed with anger and his lumberjack disguise fell away. In its place was his true face, the King of Winter, the human form of the infamous North Wind," he continued.

A small crowd was gathering, becoming interested in the story. The girl was playing an appropriately mysterious melancholy melody. He took a steadying breath and kept going. It was hard telling an epic tale in a language other than one's native tongue.

"The queen fell to her knees and begged for mercy, but the North Wind is as cold and unforgiving as the landscape of the unclimbable mountain he reigns from. He bellowed, 'You have shown yourself to be selfish and cold, you insolent child, so for the rest of your days, you will never feel warmth again, always chilled to your very bones.' The queen tried to run, but the King of Winter struck her with his magic. But the queen had not done anything wrong, so the curse instead found her unborn child, who was also innocent of any wrongdoing, but also, still being formed in her mother's womb, having the unlimited potential for good or evil, selfishness or generosity, gentle warmth or icy harshness," Flynn pronounced ominously.

He would have to hurry up with the exposition and get to the good stuff soon, or he might lose some of the sizeable audience that was forming.

"Realizing immediately what had happened, the King felt some small measure of remorse and made a slight change to the spell, allowing a way out. 'Should the child find within herself the capacity to show warmth to others on her own, without being born to it, or find someone who loves her with enough warmth to make up for her lack, loves her in spite of her coldness, she will be free of this curse of a frozen heart,' the King of Winter intoned. He vanished with a sweep of his frost-coated cloak, leaving the queen to weep over the fate of her unborn daughter. The princess was born and her parents named her Neva, which means 'snow.' Neva grew into a healthy little girl, but she was odd, never making friends or enjoying the company of people. She was curious about everything but people, though. She stayed in the library alone most days, learning everything about the world that she could. But she was never a part of that world," he sighed.

Flynn was getting too caught up in the emotion. He had to get the plot on track.

"Somehow, a duke at the castle found out about the curse. Believing the child to be a changeling product of wicked sorcery, he plotted to kill the young princess, falsely thinking he was saving the kingdom from a great darkness. The attempt was stopped, but the king and queen wanted to keep their daughter safe, so they sent her away, to her uncle's kingdom in the south. The man's wife had died childless and he never remarried. He was overjoyed to have his niece grow up in his kingdom. He took her to the village and showed her the sights. He was undeterred by Neva's utter lack of interest in other people and answered her every question about how the buildings were built and what the purpose of different items was," he explained, wishing that Elsa's parents had actually had her best interests at heart when they sent her away.

"Now, at the beginning of this tale, I mentioned a boy with no name. He lived in the uncle's kingdom, a poor orphan whose mother had died in childbirth without giving him a name. He lived his life in the opposite manner of Princess Neva. While she buried herself in books, well-provided for with material things, he thrived on connection with people because he had nothing to his name but the clothes on his back and his mother's ring, worn on a piece of twine around his neck," he said, not bothered by the white lie about him being sociable. He liked people, but he didn't like crowds. "Though this absence of material wealth was not for lack of trying. The boy was a skilled pickpocket and often found himself on the wrong side of the law for petty theft. He was seldom caught, but most of his acquisitions went to paying down a boat that he would one day use to sail far from home, to a place where he could find adventure, make a name for himself."

"He was running through the market on the day that the foreign princess arrived, away from the guards, his latest treasure jingling in his pockets. He turned a corner, and as luck would have it, ran straight into the princess. They hit the ground in a tangled heap of limbs and he scrambled up, offering her a hand without knowing who she was. He apologized for knocking her down, but she didn't seem upset. Neva just blinked at him and stretched out her hand to be helped up. He took it and her skin was ice cold, like river water in the winter. He snatched his hand back and stared at the pale wisp of a girl in front of him. 'Are you alright?' he asked. 'I am fine,' she said without emotion. In the next moment, the guards caught up and grabbed him roughly by the shoulders. They were going to bring him in this time, child or not, but that was when the princess did something strange: she asked for mercy on his behalf," Flynn intoned.

"Now, this was strange because the princess rarely asked for anything for herself, let alone others. 'He was kind,' she said. 'I read that people steal things because they do not have enough. If we have money and food to spare at the castle, can we not give him some so that he has enough without stealing?' the princess asked, not terribly invested in the outcome, merely curious as to the answer. Her uncle said that they couldn't give those things away, but that the boy might be given a job at the palace. He took up work as a carpenter's apprentice, and his proximity to the castle gave him abundant opportunities to visit the strange princess who had spared him from his fate," he explained to the ever-growing crowd.

Flynn went on to describe how the two grew up to be inseparable, "The nameless boy was the only one brave enough to approach the icy princess and talk to her. It took years of very slow progress, but she began to warm to him. Neva stopped answering his ceaseless prattle with silence or even, flat tones. She began to show feeling towards him. She was still bad with people, not particularly caring for their company, but the boy was the only exception. They grew from children to the cusp of adulthood. Meanwhile, the King of Winter had been watching the princess grow up and had become fixated on her, the only woman who had ever shared his coldness. The only woman worthy of being a true partner on the throne of winter. It was impossible to call it falling in love with her because he was not capable of such things, but he wanted her for his wife. He thought that the boy was ruining her by bringing out her warmth, so he decided that he needed to snatch her away before she thawed entirely."

"The boy and the princess were sitting together in the gardens, the roses frosting over from her mere presence. He had learned over the years to wear a cloak and mittens around his dearest friend. Suddenly, a frigid wind swirled into the garden from the furthest reaches of the north, freezing over all the lands as it passed. It was the North Wind in his less corporeal form. The wind lifted the princess and wrapped her in layers of gray cloud. Neva cried out for the boy, reaching out her arms, the fear on her face the most emotion she'd shown in all her years. The boy jumped up and his fingertips barely brushed hers, but it was not enough. 'She is mine, now,' the wind roared, departing as quickly as he came. The blizzard he'd brought still consumed the kingdom in what should have been the height of summer. The boy knew it would be up to him to rescue the princess from the clutches of the North Wind," Flynn shouted.

It was an exciting part. Shouting was necessary for hype. But the girl with the mandolin was doing an admirable job of providing atmosphere. The cup was filling quickly with coin.

Flynn detailed the harrowing journey of the nameless boy to save his friend, full of obstacles and suspense. There was a witch that tried to keep him in her house forever, a pack of wolves, pirates, a fairy ring, a knight that insisted on a fight to the death, and finally the King of Winter's own troll army. The boy fought through it all. Meanwhile, the supernatural chill of the North Wind's palace had begun to undo all of the progress the princess had made over the years, making her colder than before. When the boy arrived, he was too late. Neva was seated on the throne next to the King's, her hand in his, wearing a tiara of icicles and a beautiful wedding dress made of ice and snow. She had already become the Snow Queen.

The boy would not give up, however. He challenged the King of Winter to a fight for Neva's freedom. He fought valiantly, but he was no match for a force of nature. The Snow Queen had been sitting off to the side, watching expressionlessly. Neither her husband nor her childhood friend had noticed the slightest tightening of her fingers on the armrests of the throne whenever the boy would suffer a blow. He was down on the floor of the ice palace now, struggling to his knees. Both he and the King had their backs to the Snow Queen. The King raised his hand for the killing blow, a shot of magic that would freeze the boy from the inside out. But before he could strike, Neva leapt in front of the boy, one hand outstretched to the North Wind to ward off his attack, one hand stretched behind her towards her friend.

Flynn concluded the story, "The King tried to stop himself, but the magic had been released. The Snow Queen froze solid, into pure ice, frozen in that position of protection, a look of fear and love on her face. The King of Winter howled his rage to the sky. He had only just found a suitable wife and now she was dead at his own hand. The boy cried out and threw his arms around the woman he had grown to love. Suddenly, both his heart and the heart of the statue began to glow and a bright light overtook the throne room. When the burst faded, the princess had been restored to her former self, wearing a simple blue dress made of cotton like any common woman. She clasped the hands of the boy with no name and smiled at his amazement when her skin was warm to the touch. The King, disappointed to have lost his bride, but also in awe of the power of the love before him that had overcome his ice in the princess's heart against all odds, gave each of them a gift. To the boy, he bestowed a name: Aidan, which means 'strong.' To Neva, he granted an animal guardian: a snowy owl that was native to his kingdom, a defender against any possible future magic attacks. He sent them home on a breeze and thawed the land he had frozen over in his rush to claim the princess. Summer returned and it was under a rose bower in full bloom that Neva and Aidan were wed. The moment she said 'I do' was the first time anyone but Aidan had seen her smile. So, the combination of Aidan's relentless pursuit and brave defense of the princess and Neva's selfless sacrifice for her first friend, their mutual love, defeated the curse and freed the kingdom from eternal winter. Neva's uncle named her the heir to his kingdom, and she ruled both kingdoms with Aidan by her side always. And neither ever felt cold again, for they kept each other warm. The end."

The crowd, which was now enormous and blocking two streets, whooped and cheered. The coins overflowed the cup and had to be caught in the mandolin girl's hat. Once everyone had dispersed, she looked back and forth between the mass of currency in front of her and Flynn.

"Well, I had my doubts, but you're quite the storyteller, Mr..." she trailed off, dividing the profits into equal halves.

"Rider. Flynn Rider," he supplied.

"My name is Catalina Ramirez. Flynn, that was spectacular. How would you like to perform in our circus troupe? We're only stopped here in Santa Maria for a short time before we start our tour of Europe. We just lost our playwright to marriage, so we could use someone of your talents. You'd get a share of the take, a place to sleep in one of the wagons, and of course, your stories would be performed for adoring crowds across the continent. What do you say?" she asked, extending his share to him.

He took it and put it in his satchel, thinking. It was a guaranteed job, plenty of travel. He'd meet some interesting people. It sounded pretty great. The only problem was that he'd be more likely to be recognized the closer they got to Corona.

"Oh, you don't mind wearing costumes and masks, so you? We perform everything as a play, so people who mind having things over their faces aren't suited for the work," Catalina remarked.

"That sounds perfect, actually," Flynn replied with a grin. "I'm in."

"Welcome aboard, Mr. Rider," she laughed.

Flynn spent the rest of his time abroad travelling with the acting troupe. They were a very interesting and eclectic group of people. The acrobat from China could twist herself every which way and was a sexy, daring presence on stage, but in private, snorted when she laughed and was quite shy at conversation. The ringmaster, Catalina's father, was a bear of a man, but he was quite softhearted despite his massive size and booming voice. The Qamarain twins who dressed up as harlequin clowns never turned off the humor, but their jokes were hilarious, so it wasn't annoying. The Russian magician was mysterious and aloof at some times and babbling excitedly a mile a minute the next. The strongman from the Republic of Congo was gruff and sarcastic, but he had a soft spot for animals and spent more time with the menagerie than the people. There was a fire juggler who was afraid of spiders, a sword swallower that liked to keep a small herb garden that grew on the roof of his wagon, a dancer who could leap over people's heads and land on pointe perfectly during a show but trip over her own foot when she wasn't performing, and a whole host of other fascinating circus people. As different as they all were, they were like a big family, and they accepted Flynn into their fold not long into his time with them.

They travelled the land, spending a whole year in Spain before moving on to other countries, performing their acts. Flynn played the part of the King of Winter in "The Thief and the Snow Queen" because Catalina thought he was too tall to play a believable Aidan. He nearly laughed out loud at that statement, but managed to contain it to a quick smile instead. He wrote some other plays and acted in some of the classics. They kept it fresh.

He learned so much from the circus people and from people they talked to in other nations. It was fascinating to see the different cultures and beliefs. He kept up spreading the rumors about his thievery and made sure to rendezvous with a girl at nearly every stop. He told her to tell all her friends she'd kissed Flynn Rider. Other than the act he continued to keep up even though his heart wasn't in it, it was a good life. Despite the fact that they were constantly moving, this was the closest place to feeling like a home since he'd left Corona. He had a wonderful time, as good as when he'd been travelling the seas.

Of course, like all good things, it had to come to an end.

It had been about three years since his departure and they were nearing the Corona border. He was trying to figure out how to tell the troupe that he couldn't go with them there, but he didn't have to.

He was just buying some food at a market stall before a performance when he was approached by two nearly identical giants with red hair and wicked sideburns. One of them had an eyepatch. They both had swords slung over their backs. The one with two eyes pulled out a paper from his pocket and held it out to Flynn. He looked at it and saw that it was a wanted poster with his face, just with an oversized, bulbous nose.

"Why can't they get my nose right?" he sighed, realizing too late that he probably shouldn't have admitted to being the guy on the wanted poster.

"So this _is_ you," the one without the eyepatch rumbled.

"Um, yes? You're not thinking of turning me in for the reward, are you?" he coughed nervously.

"The thought crossed our minds," the speaker admitted. "But we have a proposal that will get both you and us more money than triple the reward for snitching on you."

"I'm listening," Flynn said casually, while internally freaking out. He was fine. He didn't need mounds of cash anymore.

"This week is the lantern festival for the lost princess's birthday in Corona. They'll have her crown on display, though guarded. Your jobs are legendary. We think that a short-term partnership would be beneficial to both parties. You help us steal the crown and you get a third of the take when we sell it to the highest bidder. What do you say?" he offered, extending a hand.

Flynn was panicking. He didn't want to actually steal anything ever again. He definitely didn't want to go back to the country where they wanted to arrest and possibly kill him. But he didn't think he had much of a choice. These brutes didn't look like the type who took no for an answer. He could always take the crown and run, then give it back once he'd lost the terrifying brothers. A shaky plan in mind, he accepted the handshake.

"Deal. So, you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don't know yours," Flynn replied.

"Kellan Stabbington. This here's my brother Ian," the one who had done all the talking answered. His brother just nodded wordlessly. Not much of a talker, that one. "So we do this job, split the take, and part ways. Simple as that."

"Sounds like a plan," Flynn said.

They walked away and Flynn let out the breath he'd been holding. This was going to be tricky. He wasn't sure how he was going to explain this to the troupe, but he didn't have to. Catalina had found one of the wanted posters. She offered to let him split or help hide him from the authorities, but he told her it wasn't necessary.

"I have to go into Corona to own up to something. I wish I could stay, Cat. You all have been so good to me," he admitted.

"So this is goodbye, then." She didn't phrase it like a question.

"Yeah," he answered anyway.

"I'm going to miss you, Flynn Rider. Best of luck. Here's your last wages," she sighed, handing him a pouch of coins.

"Thanks for everything, Cat," he smiled. "I'll miss you too, all of you."

"Go do what you have to."

So Flynn was headed back into hostile territory. It was strange to be going back home after all this time. He wondered how angry Elsa was at him. Should he try to see her? Better not. He would make this a clean getaway and then get back on another ship and leave her to her future. But maybe he'd peek in and see how she was doing, just once. He'd ignored how much he'd missed her for years, but it came creeping back up on him. After all this time, he still loved her. How could he not? He hoped she was alright.


	11. Elsa at Home

A/N: I don't own Tangled or Frozen. Still. Shocking, isn't it. *Stares into the camera like on The Office*

Chapter 11: It Gets a Little Lonely, All These Empty Rooms

In the days following Flynn's escape, Elsa threw herself into the search for Rapunzel, spending days away from the castle with the guard, looking in the remotest parts of the kingdom. She helped on some other cases as well, but locating the princess was her primary purpose, at least until the news about Flynn began to trickle in through the rumor mill. She spent some time tracking down more concrete information on him, finally resorting to sending him a frost letter. She didn't know if he got it, or the one she sent after the stories of his loose habits with women reached her.

Her heart froze and shattered when she heard them. Elsa didn't want to believe their truth, but when she was so distant and such an unrealistic prospect, it wasn't hard to imagine that her thief would want to seek out the arms of someone warmer. Several someones, if the tales were to be believed. All feeling drained out of her except betrayal, rage, and determination. The latter went towards the hunt for the missing princess and the others were directed at her former love. Catching him came just barely second to the search for Rapunzel in her list of priorities. She wanted to see him again so she could punch his teeth down his throat.

The devastating news of Flynn's faithlessness just fueled her drive to bring her cousin home, so she could distract herself from the shard of pain digging at her insides. However, it did not motivate her nearly as much as the news that arrived from her parents not many weeks after the incident with Flynn and her giant snow monster. The letter arrived, and she was both nervous and elated to finally have word from her parents. Would she be returning home at last? She wasn't certain how to feel if that was the case. She missed Anna terribly, but she had so much here, her entire life. Her work with the guard, her kind aunt and uncle, the search for the lost princess. Then she opened the letter and those concerns were no longer valid.

 _Dear Elsa,_

 _Your mother and I regret to inform you that we have decided to pass you over for the crown and name Anna as our successor instead. Please do not be angry with your sister. She protested mightily over this decision, but we feel it is best for Arendelle that she rules it. If not for your curse, you would have made a fine queen. If you feel you have a measure of control over your abilities, you may return to visit Anna any time you would like. She loves you dearly. I am sorry to do this, my daughter, but my duties as a king must come before those as a father. I would not slight you so if I did not believe it to be best for our country. I hope you will one day find it in your heart to forgive us, as parents, for any mistakes we have made. I wish you all the best._

 _Fond regards,_

 _King Agdar III of Arendelle_

Elsa mentally kicked herself for expecting anything more than the distant dismissal of everything she'd ever worked for. Anna's next letter would likely be full of apology towards her sister and anger towards their parents. At least her reluctance to leave behind all she knew in Corona was no longer an issue.

She didn't feel angry, or at least, that wasn't the prominent emotion. She felt sorrow that her parents, who knew so little of her, had such power over her life and that they used it to effectively say that they thought she would never amount to anything more than an unstable magical problem. She had been a frightened child with no idea what was happening to her. How could she have been expected to control such ferocious power? She felt regret that she'd ever cared what the strangers Agdar and Iduna had thought of her, that she'd passively let them decide to keep her from her sister and her birthright for years. She felt hollow, mostly. Emptied out and exhausted. Flynn was gone and her future she had planned for was gone. All that was left was returning her cousin to her worried parents. Her final duty.

She trudged stiffly to her uncle's study and knocked listlessly. His booming voice called for her to come in, and she entered. She faced him, and her aunt who was also in the room, letter dangling limply from her hand.

"Elsa, my dear girl, what is it?" Aunt Arianna asked.

She blinked sluggishly and handed the letter to her wordlessly. The queen accepted the sheet of parchment. Elsa stood still as a statue while she read it, feeling unmoored, as though she could drift away at any second. A huge weight of responsibility had been lifted from her shoulders and placed on Anna's. She felt sorry for her sister, but she felt a bit freer, even though it was mitigated by a sense of lost purpose. Her aunt's face paled and fell in shock.

"Frederic," she murmured, forcing his attention away from the decree he'd been signing.

He took the parchment from her and read it for himself. Unlike his wife, his reaction was not quiet and forlorn.

"WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE?!" he roared.

Elsa started. She had seldom heard him so angry. "My parents have decided that I am unfit to hold the throne of Arendelle and have given my younger sister the throne instead," she explained woodenly.

"THIS IS AN OUTRAGE! Written out of your birthright for what reason? Something that happened when you were a child, clearly, because Agdar and Iduna have not bothered to be around to see you grow up into such a remarkable young woman who is capable of ruling ten times over. How could such a wonderful girl be unworthy?" he growled.

"I cannot believe that my brother would be so callous towards his own child. Has what happened to our Rapunzel not taught him that a child is a precious gift to be treasured while you have her? What purpose could he possibly have for being so cruel?" Queen Arianna asked quietly.

"Yes, what did that fool mean by 'curse?'" her uncle huffed.

Elsa considered her answer carefully. If there was anyone who would love her in spite of her powers, it would be these two, who had raised her from age ten. They had done so much for her, taken her in without question or complaint. They deserved the truth, at least, after all these years. It would be the first time she'd said it out loud since telling Flynn.

"Since I was born, I have had magical abilities," Elsa began. "The power over ice and snow. When we were children, Anna and I were playing and I accidentally struck her with my powers. She would have been killed if the trolls had intervened and removed all magic from her, even the memory of it. When it became clear that I couldn't control my magic, they sent me away, to here, to make Anna safe. I have worked for years at controlling the powers so I could eventually return, but it seems that my parents have decided that the safer option is not to have a monster rule Arendelle."

"Oh, Elsa, darling, you're no monster," her aunt soothed, placing a hand on her cheek. "You have shown greater kindness and courage than most people are ever blessed with. Ice magic or no ice magic, who you are doesn't change. And who you are is a wonderful girl that my husband and I love fiercely."

"Indeed. This revelation changes nothing about how we care for you. It only makes me more cross at my brother in law for seeing only the worst in what has the potential to be a great gift," her uncle agreed, coming over to wrap an arm around her shoulder. "May we see?"

Elsa obliged, sending swirls of snow curling through the air of the study. She shaped it into a herd of wild horses in miniature, thundering across the carpet in swaths of white. She sent a burst of snowflakes into the air to flutter down on their shoulders and shaped a small figure in ice of the king and queen holding hands. She resented it to them and they gazed at it in wonder. Her uncle's brow furrowed as something occurred to him.

"Elsa, was it you that created that creature, then?" he asked.

She had seen this question coming and answered it honestly. "Yes. I lost control. When the guard shot Flynn in the shoulder with the crossbow and he was hurt, my panic got the best of me and it manifested as a guardian of snow and ice."

"But it hurt you," the queen pointed out, her hand fluttering over the area of Elsa's ribs that had been badly bruised in the attack.

"I got in the way. It was trying to keep the guards away from me and get me back from Maximus. It was trying to protect me, to keep me safe, because I was so afraid for Flynn. It only wanted to help, but the execution needs work. I sent it away to the North Mountain in Arendelle, far from people, where it wouldn't get into trouble," she explained.

"I see," her aunt said. "This must have been a difficult secret to keep, and a difficult power to contain. I only wish you'd told us sooner. Maybe we could have helped."

"Thank you," Elsa croaked with tears in her eyes. This acceptance had been everything she had wanted and nothing like what she'd expected from a reaction to her powers.

The king and queen embraced her and they held her for a long time. Everything seemed a little more bearable in their arms. The power of ice magic was nothing in comparison to the power of the group hug.

"I'm so glad you let us do this," her aunt sighed.

"I was worried I'd hurt you before, like I hurt Anna," Elsa admitted.

"Oh, my dear girl," her uncle sighed. "Never be afraid of your gift again. What you can do... it has the capacity to be dangerous, yes, but an equal capacity to be extraordinarily beautiful as well. If it is fear that makes rampaging creatures and calm that makes such lovely displays, then it makes the most sense to choose the opposite of fear. If anyone can wield such a power well, it is you, Elsa."

"Thank you, Uncle Frederic. I will remember that."

Elsa's days following her official crowning as Corona's princess and heir consisted of mainly three things: shadowing her aunt to study how one acted as queen of Corona, searching for her cousin, and taking immense satisfaction out of the increasingly insulting noses on Flynn's wanted posters to distract herself from her loneliness and her jealousy of the endless stream of women he entertained.

If he was trying to replace her, he was doing a poor job of it. Every time a rumor came in about his latest exploits, the women he shared his time with were invariably dark haired and busty. Maybe that was creative license of the bards and the rumor mill, but the consistency made Elsa guess these descriptions were accurate and not coincidental.

Despite how angry she was at the man Flynn had become, she missed the boy he used to be immensely. She would sometimes make an ice statue of him and talk to it like she used to speak to the flesh and blood version. One day, she was feeling frustrated at another empty lead on the whereabouts of the lost princess and was ranting at a blank-faced ice Flynn, gaining no satisfaction from talking to something that never responded.

"I wish you could say something," she sighed. "But you're not real. You're just ice. You're not... alive..."

She trailed off, remembering one thing she'd made that was composed entirely of ice, but still so completely alive, able to speak. Olaf. She focused with all her might on summoning him. A wind picked up in the room and whirled around the confines of the walls, then rushed the balcony doors, pushing them open to admit a blur of snowflakes that condensed into a familiar shape.

"Olaf?"

"Hi, Elsa! Oh, I've missed you. So has Marshmallow. But don't worry, he's fine. He likes making blocks out of snow and stacking them into walls. He might have a whole castle built soon. How are you?" the snowman babbled enthusiastically.

"Who is Marshmallow?" she asked, confused.

"Oh, you know. Big fella, glowing blue eyes that are kinda haunting, huge spiky ice hands. Ringing any bells?"

"Oh! The snow creature I made a few months ago, nearly a year now. His name is Marshmallow?" she asked.

"It's the name I gave him, and he seems to like it," Olaf replied. "So you never said. How are you?"

"I'm... not very fine," Elsa sighed.

"What's wrong?" Olaf inquired with concern, patting her leg with a stick hand.

His face was worried. It was also sagging and dripping.

"Oh! You're melting. Here, let me..." Elsa trailed off uncertainly.

She wasn't sure what to do. How could she keep him cold? Maybe she could make a snow storm inside? No. Too risky. Perhaps something smaller... She twirled her hand, fixing up Olaf and forming a little snow cloud over his head that put off an aura of cold in a bubble around him

"Ah! My own personal flurry!" Olaf gasped. "I love it!" He danced around giggling, making Elsa laugh too. When she finally stopped, her smile drooped and her eyes took on a sadness. "Elsa? Please tell me what is the matter now."

So she did. She told him about how the boy she loved had turned out to be a thief and a liar and had been chased from the country, badly wounded. How she had made an out of control monster. How she had been passed over for the throne she'd worked for her whole life. How she felt betrayed by the one person she'd thought understood her better than anyone else. How it was sometimes hard to be taken seriously as the only girl in the guard. How frustrated she was that she couldn't find her cousin and bring her home. How she was afraid that her cousin could never be brought home, that she was too late to save her. How she missed her childhood friend so acutely, but that it was clear that boy was gone and had become a scoundrel of a man. How she missed her sister. How disappointed she was in her parents. How it was difficult to see herself as the defender of Corona, the treasure that her aunt and uncle saw her as.

The snowman nodded sagely. "Life isn't easy. From what I know, it isn't usually fair. But that doesn't stop people from living it, and it shouldn't stop you, either."

"You are a very wise snowman," Elsa smiled.

Olaf shrugged. "I don't have a brain. You made me, so anything I say is stuff you already know, just maybe too deep down for you to see it by yourself."

"Thank you, Olaf. I think I should talk to you more often."

"That is a good plan. You're so smart. And nice. And special. And..." he chattered.

"Okay! That's enough, Olaf. I have to get back to work, but I'll see you soon, okay?" Elsa laughed.

"Okay. Bye, Elsa!"

The snowman disappeared with a smile and a wave at a sweep of Elsa's hand into a cluster of snowflakes on the breeze.

Elsa had rarely been fond of "princess lessons" as a child, but she adored the time she spent following her aunt around as she performed her queenly duties, teaching Elsa how to run Corona. Elsa still fully planned on finding Rapunzel and restoring her to the throne, but that could take awhile and if she was going to rule a country, she wanted to do so to the best of her ability. She sat in on petitions and watched Arianna check in with the heads of the various groups of castle staff to see if supplies of any kind were running low or if there were any concerns to be addressed. Basically, the queen's job was to make sure everything in the castle was running smoothly. Elsa joined the queen on visits to the orphanage, despite how it hurt her heart to be back in a place so charged with memories now tainted by pain.

She learned how to navigate the precarious politics of court and how to settle disputes. She learned how to negotiate trade, how to deflect a slight in such a way that it shamed the offending party into respect, how to win over opponents, and every letter of Coronan law.

Free time was minimal, between this education, her remaining lessons, and her work with the soldiers, who had accepted news of her powers with grace and enthusiasm, trying to find her cousin, but she spent it riding Max through the glades, reading in the library, or talking with Olaf. She avoided the gardens, and only sang for court performances. She didn't go to the village dances. Anything that reminded her of Flynn was ignored and shunned. She wished she could just get over him, because he had clearly forgotten her. She had friends among the guard, but none who knew her like he had. She was lonely.

Two and a quarter years passed in this manner. Then everything changed.

The winter of her nineteenth birthday, her aunt and uncle called her into King Frederic's study.

"My dear girl," he began, "there is something we need to discuss with you."

"Of course, Uncle Frederic. What is it?"

"Your aunt and I decided when you were fourteen that if you found a young man that you loved and wished to marry before you came of an age to rule, we would support that choice, and if you did not, we would select a suitable candidate for you. However, the choice is ultimately yours. If you do not wish to marry whom we choose, or to marry at all, we will stand behind your decision," the king explained.

"Oh," Elsa uttered softly.

Elsa didn't want to marry. The only man she'd ever loved was Flynn, and he had proved that she had poor taste in beaux. As foolish as it was, she was still brokenhearted over him. Yet, looking at the faces of the two people who had been her parents for nearly half her life, she knew that though they meant what they said about supporting her, being a single queen wasn't a viable option. They were only leaving it open because they loved her and wanted her to be happy. But a queen's kingdom had to come before her happiness. She knew that her aunt and uncle would only choose the best for her, a young man that they considered worthy for more than his rank and title. It wasn't as though she had an alternative option on hand anyhow. She might as well do what was best for Corona, what made them happy. She raised her head and addressed the king and queen confidently.

"I know that whomever you choose will be a fine young man and a worthy ruler of Corona, a good husband. I accept your decision. Who did you have in mind?"

"Prince Jack Frost of Russia has expressed interest in your hand, which is why we come to you with this now. All of our sources agree that he is not only a quality prince of excellent breeding and education, but a young man of impeccable and warm character. Rumor has it that he has some affinity for ice as well," her aunt answered.

"He is like me?" she gasped.

"We will ask for confirmation in our reply to his letter of proposal without revealing anything of your secret. Are you certain this is what you want?" her uncle checked.

"I reserve the right to turn him into an ice sculpture if he turns out to be a twit or a despicable human being, but my answer is yes," Elsa teased.

"I will send word right away on our fastest ship," the king replied with a throaty laugh. "Especially the part about freezing him stiff if he doesn't behave himself."

"Uncle!" Elsa laughed. "Maybe we shouldn't scare him off before he even gets here."

Her aunt and uncle smiled at her, relieved, and dismissed her to an afternoon off. Elsa let her face fall as soon as she left. Marrying a stranger wasn't something she was thrilled about, but maybe this Jack Frost would be someone she could tolerate, or even like, or... perhaps, there was a slight chance she could even love him. All she knew was that she would try her hardest to be the princess Corona deserved until its true princess returned, even if that included becoming the bride of a prince from a faraway land when her heart belonged to another who didn't even want it.

Little did she know, her path was mere months from crossing with that of the very person she was pining over once again, her story would collide with that of a girl named Rapunzel, and things once thought lost would be brought back.

The tale of the Thief and the Snow Queen wasn't over yet.

A/N: Whoa! It's about time for the Tangled tie-in. Prepare yourselves. It is coming, and it is coming soon.


	12. The Return of Flynn Rider

A/N: I don't own Tangled or Frozen. Weird, right? It's like I'm a college student who is in no way employed at Disney or its related franchises. Crazy.

Chapter 12: Guess I Always Knew This Day Was Coming

Flynn was already regretting this decision.

He was being dangled over armed guards by people he did not trust to retrieve a crown he didn't even want. Everything was going well. The crown was in his satchel. Then he just _had_ to go and comment on Marius' hay fever. He couldn't help that he remembered the poor guard's allergies from when he'd been on Elsa duty. He wished he'd kept his mouth shut because he was now running very quickly through the woods away from guards _and_ Stabbingtons, having ditched Kellan and Ian after lifting the crown at the short cliff.

It was dumb luck that he managed to crash land somewhere different from Max, who probably hated him more than he ever had after he'd broken Elsa's heart. The way he was willing to stomp Flynn's hands and send him plummeting to his death, crown or no crown, was a testament to exactly how angry the horse was at Flynn for hurting his mistress. Come to think of it, where was Elsa? She ought to be thundering after him on her horse it had taken her years of training to ride. He hated to think of what earth-shattering disaster could have kept her from such a chase, especially since it meant a chance to swing a sword at him.

 _Conceal, don't feel._

In this time of extreme duress, Elsa had turned to her old mantra. What had her so stressed out? Her reflection. Or, more specifically, the fact that it was wearing a wedding dress. She gazed at the woman in the mirror. She didn't look familiar. Her hair was up in a tight bun that hadn't been present since childhood, her blue eyes were flat and dull, her face was no longer that of a child, but a woman, and she was wearing a mass of sumptuous white fabric.

The dress was gorgeous, with a full, layered skirt and an empire waist wrapped in a long pale blue sash tied in a bow with ends that trailed halfway down the long train. Her shoulders were bare, the lace sleeves there for looks more than the function of holding the dress up. It had a sweetheart neckline cut too low for Elsa's comfort, though not immodest. It was decorated with silver bullion embroidered in a curling frost and snowflake pattern across the skirt and glittering glass beads scattered across the bodice. Here and there, crystalline blue thread or lace added a pop of color to the edges of the gown. It was beautiful, exactly what she would have chosen.

She hated it.

Soon, she was to be a wife, and likely a mother not long after that. This dress was just another unnecessary reminder of that fact. Jack was nice. He'd been nothing but wonderful. He was incredibly handsome, with sharply chiseled features and bright eyes and fair hair and a slim, athletic figure. He was good to her. So why couldn't she love him? He was convinced that she would, given time. She had been honest with him up front that she loved another man who did not feel the same and was a thousand miles away and he had taken it well. He was willing to be patient with her and not force feelings to develop, but their kingdoms had pushed the marriage up.

She was to be married in a week's time, mere days after the lantern festival. Her Arendellian family was even coming. Elsa hoped that the occasion would cheer her aunt and uncle after another of Rapunzel's birthdays passed with no sign of her. Elsa was nearly without hope that she would be found, but she would keep trying as long as she could, whenever these blasted wedding preparations didn't interrupt her.

"Everything looks good, Princess Elsa," the seamstress informed her. "We just need to adjust this hem a bit and have you come back tomorrow to check the fit one last time."

"Certainly. Send for me when you are ready," Elsa replied evenly, not letting anyone see how she was screaming on the inside.

It was getting easier since she had to do it at every event related to the wedding. The rehearsal dinner had been draining, keeping up a convincing smile through the festivities celebrating the advent of what she never even wanted. She had let her aunt oversee the decisions about the dress, the food, the flowers, and such so she would have minimal exposure to planning what felt like her execution. Jack liked that she loved to fight, but once married, she'd have to dial back on soldier-related activities to perform her wifely duties. She did not look forward to that, and neither did the captain. He'd actually wept when her engagement was announced, wailing that they'd lost a good soldier too soon. It had taken him some time to calm down and congratulate her, and she had whispered that she'd cried, too, in private.

Jack really did have ice powers, too. At least they had that in common. They spent time together having snowball fights and snowman-building contests in addition to normal things. He liked Olaf a lot and was jealous that none of his constructs were that alive. She brought Marshmallow for a brief visit and he'd pouted teasingly about being shown up. He was so funny and lighthearted, so much like her old Flynn. He made her laugh like she hadn't since losing her first love.

They planned to make the announcement about their powers later in the year, after the wedding. Jack's country already knew about him, and most people had heard the rumors about him, but only a handful of trusted individuals knew about Elsa. If she was going to be queen, which was looking increasingly more likely, she wouldn't keep secrets from her people unless it was to their benefit.

Suddenly, a maid from the castle popped her head in the door of the seamstress's shop.

"Hey! Did you hear? Flynn Rider is back, and he stole the princess's crown. The entire guard is hunting for him!"

"Flynn?" Elsa mumbled in disbelief.

The maid cringed guiltily, having just realized that the princess was right in front of her. Elsa felt a dozen emotions rush through her at this news and settled on one: rage. After all this time, he finally came back, and it was to _steal_ from her aunt and uncle? The very thing that had gotten him in trouble in the first place was what he decided to do first upon returning home. Of all the flagrantly disrespectful things he could have done... She was furious. It was like he was flaunting his presence right under her nose. That did it. Enough soft-hearted pining over Flynn Rider. She would bring him in and get back her cousin's crown, and maybe give him a piece of her mind and a hard kick to the shins while she was at it.

She shrugged out of the gown and stepped back into her uniform, identical to the guards' other than the addition of a long coat and a blue shirt instead of a dark red one. She also chose to forego the helmet in favor of a simple circlet of sapphires and silver. She slung her weapons belt around her waist and strapped on her thigh holster that held spare daggers. She settled her crossbow on her back and shoved her feet into her dark gray boots.

"I'm going after him. Tell my aunt and uncle where I've gone," she commanded the maid. "I promise to be back as soon as I can, hopefully with Flynn Rider in cuffs."

She strode out of the shop and stormed down the street, an iron expression on her face that made people dodge out of her path. They were as excited for the fairytale wedding as anyone, but they knew their princess, and they knew that she was capable of being quite dangerous and that it was best to stay out of her way when she was on the warpath to justice.

If she knew Flynn Rider, she knew he'd end up in a tavern to tell an exaggerated tale about his adventure stealing the crown, the seedier the better. She would make the circuit on her own and catch up to Max later since he was out with the guard. She would get her cousin's crown back from Flynn no matter what it took. She wondered what her cousin was doing right now, if she was alive. Was she pining for a family she never knew? Dreaming of escape? Or blissfully unaware that she was missing out on anything at all?

Rapunzel, at the moment Elsa was thinking of her, was convincing herself that she had done the right thing choosing to send her mother away so she could make the strange man take her to the floating lights. Mother was convinced that Rapunzel couldn't take care of herself, but she would prove her wrong. She just needed a guide. She got Pascal to wake him up. He jolted back into consciousness with a scream, flinging Pascal away. She tried to have a conversation with him, but he proved to be an infuriating and stubborn person. Well, she could be stubborn.

Flynn, for his part, was fighting back a killer headache and wondering who this Rapunzel person was, and what she wanted. It couldn't just be the lanterns, could it? It was too simple. When the smoulder failed, he gave in and agreed to take her, despite the immense peril to himself even if he went back alone. With a tag along, he was in even more danger of being caught. So, she was a sheltered kid? He could probably convince her to give up on this quest pretty easily.

When she swung off the tower on a cascade of golden hair, he was a little miffed that she hadn't offered him the easy way down, but even more annoyed at her relentlessly cheerful demeanor. He was on a mission, here. He had to get that crown so he could give it back and beg for mercy. It was his lifeline. He didn't have time to get sidetracked by this girl's first road trip.

When she held still for two seconds to cry, clearly still unsure about going, he pushed down any guilt about emotionally manipulating a girl in turmoil and tried to convince her through reverse psychology to go back to the tower. It didn't work.

But when he saw her freak out about the bunny in the bushes, hanging off him like a squirrel and choking him in her panic, he was struck with an idea. If she was scared of the outside world, he could take advantage of that to get her to turn around and go back to the tower that housed his satchel. But what would intimidate her into running away? It hit him like an anvil to the foot. Of course!

If anything would make Blondie give up on this little quest, it was a visit to the Snuggly Duckling because, despite its name, it was the exact opposite of snuggly. If he could get her to expect the rest of the world to be as terrifying as the thugs' tavern, she'd turn tail for home and give him back the crown he'd rightfully stolen.

He should have expected to be recognized, in spite of the mockingly bad posters of him. However, he was unprepared when the horned giant grabbed him by the vest and hauled him into the air to be snatched at by a horde of criminals. The second to last thing he'd expected was for the girl to use her hair to break up a fistfight over who got possession of him. The absolute last thing he'd expected was for the entire mob to break into song and force him to join in. Remembering nights singing with Elsa in the gardens with a pang, he refused.

"No, no can do, boys. I don't sing," he brushed off with a smirk and crossed arms.

Several sword points convinced him differently. He thought fast, delivering a slightly edited version of the truth.

"I've got dreams like you, no really, just much less touchy-feely. They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny on an island that I own, tandem rested and... alone, surrounded by enormous piles of money," he sang awkwardly.

He was promptly thrown off stage, which suited him just fine.

Unfortunately, he was catapulted into the air, onto a rolling barrel, through a gauntlet of fire-breathing ruffians.

Even though he was a bit shaken by the commotion, he had to admit that the big finale was actually quite impressive. The moment was cut short, however.

When the guy from earlier returned shouting that he'd found the guards, he yanked Blondie behind the bar. He heard the voice of Captain Renard bellow, in unison with the pounding of his fist rattling the bar, "Where's Rider? Where is he? I know he's in here somewhere. Find him! Turn the place upside down if you have to!" That wasn't surprising, seeing as the captain likely hated him as much as Maximus did for betraying Elsa in addition to just generally being offended by his evasion of the law. It also wasn't surprising that the Stabbingtons had been captured and brought along with the guards, even though it was terrifying. What _was_ surprising was that he heard Elsa's voice follow him as he descended into the secret tunnel.

"If Flynn Rider hasn't been here already, he will be here sometime in the near future. If any of you have any information whatsoever, please come forward. You will be compensated for your contribution," her voice commanded.

It was like a punch to the gut, hearing her again after all these years. She sounded so familiar, but different at the same time... colder. He shook himself from thinking about Elsa by making small talk with the girl. He started out by offhandedly complimenting her skills in the Duckling.

"So, that was really something back there. I didn't know you had that in you."

"I know!" she shouted. "I mean, I know," she corrected more nonchalantly.

"So... Flynn," she prodded after a few paces. "Where are you from?"

"Whoa, whoa! Sorry, Blondie, I don't do backstory. However, I am becoming very interested in yours. Now, I know I'm not supposed to ask about the hair," he said.

"Nope."

"Or the mother."

"Uh-uh."

"Frankly, I'm too scared to ask about the frog."

"Chameleon," she corrected.

"Nuance," he dismissed. "Here's my question, though. If you want to see the lanterns so badly, why haven't you gone before?"

Rapunzel laughed awkwardly, looking to her chameleon for advice, which was frankly, weird.

"Well..." she hesitated.

She was saved from answering by the rumble of stampeding footsteps and the glow of torchlight from the direction they'd left. Soldiers. He urged Blondie to pick up the pace. They burst out into daylight at the edge of a cliff, the only way down an untrustworthy-looking ancient rope ladder. Flynn was distracted from his survey of the landscape by the arrival of the Stabbingtons crashing through a boarded-up tunnel down below. There went that escape route.

"Who's that?" Blondie asked, gazing fearfully at the armed men.

"They don't like me," was the only appropriate answer.

Not ten seconds later, the guards caught up and blocked the tunnel they had just come out of. That escape route was rendered useless as well.

"Who's that?" the girl repeated.

"They don't like me either," Flynn answered, looking for another way out.

Of course, Max arrived with a furious whinny and prompted Blondie to huff another exasperated, "Who's _that_?"

"Let's just assume for the moment that everybody in here doesn't like me," Flynn answered with an emphatic hand gesture.

But the fates or whoever was in charge of unhappy coincidences liked him only slightly more than the next person to show up liked him, apparently. Elsa strode in from another entrance higher up on the walls of the quarry, looking fiercely beautiful in her own version of the guard uniform, just like he remembered her, a warrior queen. She was looking around the canyon, probably for them.

"What about her?" Rapunzel asked, looking at Elsa in awe. He couldn't blame her. Elsa was pretty impressive. He knew that better than anyone. He also knew that she hated him.

"Let's assume that she _really, really_ doesn't like me," he replied fearfully.

Her eyes found them and narrowed in fury. She drew a crossbow from her back and took aim.

"Flynn Rider!" she shouted. "I will have your head on a stick!"

"That was a safe assumption," Blondie observed. "Here."

She shoved her frying pan into his hands and dove off the cliff, swinging on the hair she'd thrown to another ledge in the opposite direction of most of the combatants. That left him alone with four guards with swords and a very angry horse with a personal grudge against him with only a kitchen utensil to defend himself. Ironically, it was Elsa's lessons in vulnerable points on the body and the use of melee weaponry that saved him. Suddenly he had a pile of unconscious guards at his feet, but that left him with Max and another problem: Elsa hadn't shot him yet because the risk of hitting her comrades was too high. Now that he was nearly out of assailants, even if he beat Max, Elsa would then have a clear shot. Still flush from his victory over four armed soldiers with a frying pan, he thought he would defeat Max in a sword fight.

He was wrong.

"You should know that this is the strangest thing I've ever done," is what he called just before his "weapon" was knocked from his grasp. He and the horse watched it fall to the bottom of the gorge. "How about two out of three?" he suggested.

He was ignored and menaced with a sword, but Blondie came through for him, getting him away from Max. However, his trajectory happened to put him right in the path of the Stabbingtons. He barely managed to dodge and turned back to taunt them.

"Ha! You should see your faces because you look," he began before being interrupted by a wood beam to the stomach. "Ridiculous," he finished in a wheeze. He could hear Elsa laughing at him.

Talk about adding insult to injury.

Max, meanwhile had decided to go after Blondie, but he held her hair and she just barely escaped the horse's bite with a daring leap... right towards the Stabbingtons. Some fancy footwork got him to the ground, but there were two problems in the form of sword-wielding mercenaries hot on their heels. Luckily, the dam blew and distracted all parties involved, leaving him and Blondie home free to run for a cave... that turned out to be a dead end. A quickly flooding dead end.

They beat uselessly at the walls, him cutting his hand on a rock in the process. He dove to try and find a way out, but it was too dark. He came up gasping.

"It's no use. I can't see anything," he informed her. Her face just hardened with determination and she tried to go herself, but he yanked her back up spluttering. "Hey! There's no point. It's pitch black down there."

They were silent for a moment, each thinking about how this was the end. Flynn regretted so much that he'd never made up with Elsa. He wished they could have been in a good place before he kicked the bucket. At least he got to see her one last time, even if it was from a distance. He had wasted so much time trying to do the selfless thing and let her be a queen, but she had said outright that she'd give it all up for him. What more proof had he needed that she loved him? It took dying for him to realize what a fool he'd been. He should have said something, done something when he'd had the chance. Now it was too late.

"This is all my fault. She was right. I never should have done this. I'm- I'm so sorry, Flynn," Rapunzel sobbed.

It struck him suddenly that he was about to die with this girl and she didn't even know his real name. Neither did Elsa. Ha. He always said he'd take the secret to the grave.

"Eugene," he uttered.

"What?" she sniffled.

"My real name is Eugene Fitzherbert. Someone might as well know."

"I have magic hair that glows when I sing."

Well, that blew the importance of his secret right out of the water.

"What?" he said.

"I have... magic hair that glows when I sing!" she exclaimed, seeming to come to a realization of some sort. Then she started singing quickly. "Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine."

They gasped in their last breath and he nearly lost all of the precious air when he saw all seventy feet of her hair light up like the sun. With that light, they could see a gap that was letting some water out. They dug desperately at the rocks in the fading light, breaking through into sweet, glorious, breathable air just as darkness descended again. When they surfaced on the banks of the river, her focus was on the fact that they lived. His focus was on the fact that her hair glowed, but not for the reason she thought.

Rapunzel was actually a common name since that had been the princess' name, so he hadn't thought anything of the coincidence. But now that he knew she had magic, he was looking closer at her, trying to see the family resemblance. The coloring was completely different from Elsa, but replace blonde hair with brown and Rapunzel could _be_ Queen Arianna. But something in the shape of her eyes, the point of her chin, the little crinkle in her nose when she smiled, reminded him very much of Elsa now that he was searching for it. Magic powers were also something they had in common, apparently.

He listened to her explain her abilities after she healed his hand, trying and failing to hide how he was freaking out. Elsa was always better out of the two of them at concealing her emotions. He put two and two together and realized that this mother Rapunzel talked about was probably the witch who had kidnapped the baby princess eighteen years ago, taking advantage of her healing powers. Those powers were likely the reason she'd been snatched in the first place. He planted the idea in her head of never going back to the tower. She might as well get used to it, because after she got her dream, he would tell her the truth and bring her to see her parents. Bringing back the lost princess would be doing one better than bringing back her crown.

He would wait until after because he remembered Elsa talking about all the work that went into being a princess, how it caged you in responsibility. He would let Rapunzel be just a girl for a day. A girl outside of her tower. If he told her right away, it would be trading one prison for another.

Her honesty seemed to deserve him giving her the same respect, so when she prompted him with his real name, he only halfheartedly deflected her.

"Well, I'll spare you the sob story of poor, orphan Eugene Fitzherbert. It's, well, it's a little bit of a downer." When she was not even slightly deterred, he laughed and gave her a real answer. "There was this book. A book that I used to read every night to all the younger kids: The Tales of Flynnigan Rider, swashbuckling rogue, richest man alive, not bad with the ladies either," he said suggestively. "Not that he'd ever brag about it, of course."

She giggled. "Was he a thief, too?"

"Ah, well.." he hesitated. "No," he admitted. "Actually, he had enough money to do anything he wanted to do. He could go anywhere he wanted to go. And for a kid... with nothing... I- I don't know. It just seemed like the better option." There was a beat of silence. "You can't tell anyone about this, okay? It would ruin my whole reputation."

"I don't buy it," Rapunzel said simply.

"What?"

Of all the possible reactions to his story, this hadn't been one he would have anticipated.

"There is no way you became a world famous thief with such a crazy amount of wanted posters over a book and a hollow dream like money. What's the real story, Eugene?" she prompted.

"Well, the real story is longer and a lot more complicated."

"I grew up with three books. All stories are pretty much new to me. Long and complicated isn't going to scare me off," she snorted.

"Alright. Well, the name and the orphan part and the book part are true, but there was also... a girl," he admitted.

"This girl wouldn't happen to be a royal guard who looks handy with a crossbow, would she?" Blondie teased.

"Yeah, that's Elsa. She's actually a princess who just hangs out with the royal guard. She's worked half her life to be the finest swordswoman in Corona. We grew up together."

"Princesses grow up at orphanages?"

"No," he laughed. "When I turned thirteen, she got me a job at the castle, with the blacksmith. We spent every moment we could get together. We would talk for hours about nothing and everything or sit in silence and watch the sky. We got into heaps of trouble that was mostly my fault and were generally inseparable. The perfect team."

"What happened?"

"We grew up," he sighed. "Suddenly, it was inappropriate for a male commoner to be alone with the princess. There were more obstacles to spending time together. But that wasn't what messed it up. Not really. That was all my fault."

"Explain," she insisted.

"I fell in love with her. And I got this idea into my head that if I wanted to marry her, I had to have land or a title or something. Well, being a blacksmith's apprentice doesn't pay enough for either of those things, so I started stealing, in disguise. I had this whole plan to get the land, make it look like my unknown father had died and left it to me, and pass myself off as a real blue blood so I could ask for her hand. I had this grand idea in my head of how I would propose and she'd admit she loved me too," he sighed, remembering his fantasy of the garden and the ring.

"What went wrong? Did she not feel the same?" Rapunzel asked.

"No, there was a prince trying to court her, a real piece of work. He knew we loved each other and wanted to break us up so he could have her, like she was some prize to be won. Thinking of Elsa as an endgame reward rather than a player was his first mistake. Anyway, he had spies follow me and I got caught for theft. Elsa helped smuggle me out of the country and I haven't seen her until today, for three years," he confessed. "I lied about wanting to be alone with a lot of money. The real dream had her in it. And, honestly, it wouldn't be complete without her, but she's mad at me, and rightly so."

"That actually sounds pretty romantic, if also part tragedy. So, that explains the life of infamy and why you're running from the guard. But why does Elsa hate you? I thought you two were in love," Rapunzel protested.

"We were. But again, I got a stupid idea into my head that I was ruining her future and that I needed to step aside so she could become the queen I knew she could be. She said she'd give it all up for me, but she'd worked so hard. I didn't want to get in the way. The only way I could think of to make her move on was to make her so angry at me that she'd give up on me, so I made it seem like I was an international thief and a philandering scoundrel," he told her. "But I was stupid. I should have recognized a good thing when I had it and fought to keep it. I screwed up, and now it's too late. She'll never forgive me."

"You don't know that until you ask," Blondie insisted. "Maybe all she wants is for you to apologize."

"Maybe. I just have to get it out before she stabs me," he laughed.

"Is she really that scary?" Rapunzel asked.

"Elsa's actually a sweetheart once you get to know her. She just has an icy exterior, is all. She would never seriously hurt anybody unless in defense of others. She'd love you, actually. You are just like her sister, Anna," Flynn assured her.

"I'd like to meet her. She seems really interesting. Then again, I've never met anybody before today, so all people are interesting to me," she mused. "Can you tell me more Elsa stories?"

"Maybe after I grab some more firewood. Otherwise, I'll be telling them in the dark," he groaned as he stood.

"Hey. For the record, I like Eugene Fitzherbert much better than Flynn Rider," Rapunzel told him.

"Well then you'd be the first," he smiled sadly, walking off into the trees.

He had no idea that he'd left the lost princess of Corona alone in the near dark with a manipulative witch who was trying desperately to convince her that he wasn't to be trusted and was halfway succeeding.


	13. Cousins Reunited

A/N: I still. *twirls in a graceful circle* Don't own. *punches the air* Tangled. *pops and locks* Or Frozen *drops into a perfect split from a standing position* I tried to make the disclaimer more "visually" interesting. Did it work?

Chapter 13: Nothing Like I've Ever Known Before

Elsa was relieved that she'd managed to save her whole platoon. It took a lot of maneuvering with ice powers to rescue them all from drowning. Max was missing and she desperately hoped he was alright. She was angry that Flynn and the Stabbingtons had gotten away. And who was that girl with him? His romantic encounters usually happened after the adventure was over, and they certainly didn't take such an active role in his escapes. She was different from his usual dark-haired full-figured type. It made Elsa consider that the girl might not be a lady friend at all, but an accomplice. She was now a person of interest.

She took a new group of guards that hadn't faced a near-death experience that day to the lands near the quarry and spent hours of fruitless searching combing the area for the escaped criminals. When sunset came and they had found nothing, they rode back up to the castle. The soldiers broke away to go to the barracks, leaving their steeds to the grooms. Elsa usually liked to handle her horse herself, but that horse was always Max, so she didn't feel like brushing down this temporary replacement that simply didn't have the same sparkle in his eyes that Max did. So, she dismounted and handed off her mount to one of the stable workers with an exhausted sigh.

"Why the long face, Sunshine? Rough day?" a voice asked from behind her.

Elsa smiled. Speaking of grooms... She turned and faced her fiance. Jack was standing there, leaning on the gate, looking handsome as ever in a blue cloak and shirt and brown trousers. He wasn't wearing shoes, which didn't surprise her, though she rolled her eyes. She would never understand his odd habit of abandoning footwear in favor of bare feet. How had he gotten away with it growing up at court? He was wearing his typical wide grin. His pale hair was mussed. He must have just finished riding as well.

She walked over to him and let him fold her in a hug. She was freer with her physical affection in general now, but Jack was the only person she felt one hundred percent safe embracing no matter her emotional state. He had ice powers, too, so he resisted the cold as well as she did. She heaved a muffled sigh into his shoulder. He wasn't much taller than her, so her face wasn't buried in his chest unless she bent down. She felt the tension leak out of her. Jack radiated this carefree aura, so it was hard to stay very stressed around him for long.

"Well? I may be as cold as winter, but I'm not quite as patient. What's wrong, Elsa?" he prodded.

"Sorry, Jack. It has been a long and _aggravating_ day," she huffed.

"Do you want to fill me in?" he asked.

She hesitated. "Flynn Rider is back."

"Your ex? The man who was foolish enough to give you up? That Flynn Rider?" he queried.

"The very same," she grumbled. "He stole the lost princess's crown and evaded us at the old quarry. He has some girl with him and is collaborating with some known mercenaries. My platoon was nearly killed by a burst dam today trying to catch him and he still got away. Max is missing and I'm worried and furious and frustrated and just so, so... tired."

"Well, feel free to vent to me as much as you need. Based on reputation alone, I don't like this guy any more than you do. And Max is a smart horse. I mean, he's practically a person. If any trusty steed could survive a massive flood and make his way home to his rider safely, it's him," Jack reassured her.

So she spilled everything, from being notified at the fitting to threatening him with a crossbow to coming up empty on the search to her suspicions about the blonde with copious hair. He nodded thoughtfully.

"That girl could definitely be involved. She sounds almost as amazing as you." At Elsa's sharp look, he emphasized, "I said almost. No one can measure up to how incredibly astounding you are." Elsa blushed crimson at his fond words. "So, you said seventy feet of hair? That sounds hard to manage."

"She used it as a whip, grappling lasso, and rappelling line. I think she manages just fine," Elsa snarked. "In a fight, it seems to be an asset more than anything. But I want to know how she got her hair that long. Even if she didn't cut her hair for twenty years, it would be down to her feet at the most. There has to be sorcery involved. If it's her own magic, that makes her an even more formidable threat."

"You always think of every angle, don't you? I don't know how you understand so much about everything all the time."

"Chess is really good practice for thinking up strategy and considering all sides and solutions to a problem. You would know this if you could sit through a game," she teased.

"That torture method is not a game. I know games. I'm the king of games. Chess does not count," he insisted with a lighthearted smile. "Speaking of games, I know what you need to cheer up a bit until you can get out tomorrow and look for this guy. You need to have a snowball fight with me."

"I think you mean _win_ a snowball fight with you," Elsa laughed, stepping back and readying her first projectile.

"In your dreams, Princess," he chuckled, pecking her lips with a kiss before retreating to a more strategic position of attack.

It was good fun, and Elsa won, of course. It worked to distract her from her current troubles, but did not lessen her determination to catch Flynn Rider tomorrow in the slightest.

Somehow, Goldie managed to negotiate a truce with a horse on the warpath. Flynn felt lucky to be alive, though he was annoyed that the horse was tagging along. Blondie's enthusiasm for everything was kind of cute. But at the same time it was also sad. She had never seen horses or ordinary people or apple carts or chickens in her life, so all the ordinary things were amazing to her. She had been deprived of experiencing any life at all. That in itself might have been crueler than taking her from her parents.

Some helpful girls with red hair helped braid Rapunzel's long tresses out of the way and decorated them with flowers. She looked beautiful, as regal as the princess she was born to be.

He turned around from buying lunch to see her spinning in place to the tune of the fiddle. She kept pulling random bystanders into the dance until it was a proper dance circle. Flynn felt a dull ache in his chest at the memory of similar dances with Elsa. Blondie beckoned him into the circle and he turned her down with a gesture. But he hadn't counted on Max being so vindictive. He shot the chortling animal a glare as he was yanked into the figures of a reel. He let himself be dragged around the circle, keeping an eye on Rapunzel even when he switched partners. He collided with her at the end, immediately stepping back. He tugged her in another direction, suggesting other activities before she could ask to go again.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

"Me? I'm fit as a fiddle. Why do you ask?" he covered.

"You seem anxious. Was it dancing? Do you not like to dance? I thought that from your story yesterday about teaching the princess that..."

"The fact that it's something I used to do with Elsa is kind of the whole problem, actually," he cut her off.

"Oh. I'm so sorry, Eugene. I didn't even think."

"It's alright. Call me Flynn in public, please. I meant it when I said you couldn't tell anyone," he reminded her.

"But if the guards are looking for Flynn Rider, won't calling you by your real name deflect suspicion?" she protested.

"Fine," he sighed. "You have a point. Just do it quietly, okay?"

"Okay."

They wandered around the festival, with him showing Blondie the sights. He'd been every year with Elsa. He knew the layout like the back of his hand. One thing was different, though. There was a buzz in the air unlike any year before. People were excited about something that had nothing to do with the festival. It was the thing the citizens of Corona looked forward to most every year, so he had no idea what could be more interesting than that. It hit him like a kick to the teeth when he saw _the wagon_. He stopped dead in his tracks, as frozen as one of Elsa's ice sculptures, unable to believe what his eyes and ears were telling him.

"Eugene? What is it?" Rapunzel worried. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

"That," he growled, gesturing with his arm at a stand selling merchandise commemorating Elsa's wedding.

"Oh," she said hollowly. She shook herself and turned to a nearby person who had just bought a plate with Elsa and some guy with white hair painted on it, gazing into each other's eyes. "Excuse me, we're from out of town. Could you tell us what all the commotion is about?"

"Oh! Certainly," the lady replied with a smile. "Princess Elsa, the defender of Corona, is getting married next week to Prince Jack Frost of Russia. It's all very exciting. We love our princess dearly and everyone here is so happy about her engagement. We thought she'd never find someone right for her. The whole thing is a public event, so anyone can come and see the ceremony. It's all anyone can talk about."

"Defender of Corona?" Flynn asked woodenly.

"You don't know?" the plate lady seemed surprised. "About three years ago, there was an incident at the palace with a foreign prince, a different one, and the legendary thief Flynn Rider. He was the princess's childhood friend, you know. He escaped because a giant monster made of snow appeared, attacking the princess and the guard. The creature even broke her ribs. It was as tall as six men, easily. It had great claws made of ice and empty, soulless eyes that glowed like hellfire, but cold. I was there when it rampaged through the town, chasing the princess, who was on horseback. She drew it away to a part of the woods far from people. My cousin on the guard witnessed this part of the fight and told me about it. She was in its grasp, about to fall off a cliff. She told them not to come any closer, to toss her a sword. She spent years training with the soldiers to fight with one, by the way. Anyhow, she sliced off the monster's arm with a single swipe and escaped its grip. But the limb grew back and she battled the creature alone, refusing to let the men endanger themselves. Our princess is quite brave, and selfless. She finished it off swiftly, removing a leg and then stabbing it through the chest, destroying it in a shower of snowflakes and a gust of wind. She was hailed as a hero and crowned officially as the princess of Corona. Afterwards, she joined the search for the lost princess. No one is more dedicated to finding her than Princess Elsa."

"Lost princess?" Rapunzel started to ask.

"Thank you!" Flynn interjected. "You've been very helpful, but we have to go. Enjoy the festival!"

He dragged Blondie away from the confused plate lady into the crowd.

"What was that about?" she huffed.

"Nothing. Just too much about Elsa," he lied. "I can't believe she's getting married." His sadness was genuine.

"Oh, Eugene. I'm so sorry. Is there anything you can do?"

"She's getting married in a week. It's a little late. Besides, if she's really happy, I don't want to take that away from her. I never expected her to wait for me, but I'm still surprised, I guess. I kind of hoped we'd be able to pick up where we left off," he admitted.

"What if she's not?"

"What if she's not what?" he asked.

"Happy. I mean, before you give up, you should probably check and make sure this is actually what she if she only needs a reason to say no?" Blondie insisted.

"You're right," he brightened. "I can't just give up until I've apologized and made sure she's okay. I owe her that much."

"Hey, Eugene? What did that woman mean by Elsa having to be crowned as princess here? Wasn't she already the princess?" she asked.

"Well, Elsa is actually the princess of another country called Arendelle originally. She was sent here by her parents when she was ten, supposedly to study here how to be a queen, but really because they were afraid of her magic," he explained.

"She has magic?"

Darn it. He hadn't meant to let her secret slip. But if anyone would understand, it was her cousin, who had abilities of her own.

"Yeah. Ice magic," he admitted. "She probably made the monster in the first place, by accident of course. Elsa hurt her sister with her powers when she was little. She didn't mean to, but it scared her parents enough that they sent her out of the country and then wrote her out of her birthright to the throne of Arendelle not long after I left."

"That's terrible! So they don't know about her magic here, and they think she saved them all?" she asked.

"Well, Elsa _did_ save them. She didn't have control over that monster. She got hurt defending them. She put herself in real danger to fight that thing. They just don't know that she also made it," Flynn replied.

"I see. I didn't know anyone else had magic," she sighed. "I'm beginning to see that there are a lot of things I didn't know."

 _You have no idea,_ Flynn thought.

They spent the rest of the afternoon pleasantly until they happened by the seamstress shop and Flynn nearly tripped over himself at what he saw through the window.

Elsa was stunning. Her pale hair tumbled loose over her shoulders, brushing the tops of delicate lace sleeves. Her slender figure was swathed in layers and layers of silvery white fabric. It fit her perfectly and the hints of blue made her eyes glow like stars. She was breathtaking. Any man who saw her walking down the aisle towards him looking like that would be struck dumb by her beauty. And yet...

She was so sad. Her shoulders drooped from her normally proper posture and her smile looked false and strained. She was staring at her reflection like she didn't know the bride in the mirror. He was worried about her, and that made up his mind. Despite the crazy risk, he was going in.

Elsa had forgotten that her princess duties demanded that she attend the festivities and go to the last fitting of her wedding dress today. She had wanted to hunt immediately for Flynn, but tradition required that she make an appearance. She stood in front of that hated mirror again, fighting the urge to rip off the dress.

"I think that last adjustment did it, Your Highness," the seamstress told her in satisfaction. "I need to step into the back to do some busy work so I can get to the festival today. I can't hear too well from back there, so you'll really have to shout if you need me. Just leave the dress on the chair when you're done."

The woman bustled into the back rooms and Elsa examined her reflection. She was going to be a bride in a few days. She ought to be overjoyed. She couldn't bring herself to be happy, but she _should_ be. Jack was a good man. He would be a good husband. She could do this without breaking. She had told herself she was over Flynn Rider. It was time to prove it.

She met her reflection's eyes and said as confidently as possible, "I am getting married to a remarkable person. I'm thrilled. I couldn't be happier."

Her reflection's expression said it didn't believe a word she was saying. She didn't blame it. She didn't believe herself either. Elsa sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She would have to be a lot more convincing when she said "I do." The whole country would basically be watching.

That cheery thought made her itch even more to get the hated garment off. She stepped down and moved behind the privacy screen, hand reaching for the buttons on her back.

"You look beautiful, Snowflake," a familiar tenor commented from behind her. She whipped around, shocked to see Flynn standing behind her with a sad smile on his face. "This Jack Frost is one lucky fellow. I hope he knows it."

"You," she hissed. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to apologize. And explain. You deserve the truth."

"I _deserve_ the truth?" Elsa laughed bitterly. "No. What I _deserve_ is the basic human decency to not have my beating heart ripped from my chest. What I _deserve_ was for you to not throw yourself at an endless stream of women. What I _deserve_ is to not still be in love with someone who clearly does not return my affections!" she nearly shouted, ice crackling down her hands.

She was so angry she could barely see straight, let alone bring herself to be embarrassed by how much she had revealed.

"You still love me, after everything?" he asked in a quiet voice, as though afraid she would shatter if he spoke too loudly.

"I wish I didn't," she snapped. "It would be so much easier. I could marry Jack without feeling like I'm lying through my teeth. I could shoot you with a crossbow bolt and be done with chasing you. I could stop waking up in the morning feeling like half of me is missing. I could look you in the face right now without being the slightest bit conflicted about breaking your nose or kissing you senseless."

She bit her lip, startled by her own honesty.

"Snowflake, I- I was a fool. I thought you would be better off without me, so I did my best to make you hate me so you would move on. I never actually stole anything after that day three years ago. The rumor mill let me take credit for a bunch of stuff I didn't do, including anything that said I went further than a peck on the lips with those girls. They meant nothing to me. They were just to make sure I didn't keep you from your future," he explained.

"Are you serious? When are you going to run out of ideas that are utterly stupid, you idiot?" she laughed, while also crying. "I can't believe that was actually your plan. What on earth made you think you were no good for me?"

"You said you'd abdicate for me. I didn't want you to throw away everything you'd worked for. It was the only thing I could think of," he confessed sheepishly.

"So you really do still love me?" Elsa asked, moving closer to stand two feet in front of him.

"I never stopped."

They met in a passionate kiss. His hands tangled in her hair and hers gripped his face and pulled him tighter against her, like she couldn't press him close enough.

"God, I missed you," he murmured against her mouth.

"Likewise," she agreed.

They broke for air and Elsa rested her hands against Flynn's chest, head bowed, cackling quietly.

"What's funny?"

"Not funny, exactly. More ironic. After all this time, I find out we're still mutually madly in love and it's too late. I'm engaged. It's more than a promise between two people; it's a contract between nations. I can't back out now. It wouldn't be the honorable thing to do. Besides, I have to stay and be queen anyway, since it looks like my cousin will never be found. I can't leave my kingdom without an heir. And to think I thought it was hard when we were only separated by distance," she chuckled darkly.

"Well, about the part where Rapunzel can't be found..." Flynn began.

"Wait, do you know something? Did you find some evidence of her in your travels?" Elsa questioned eagerly.

"She's outside," he replied with a shrug.

"WHAT?" Elsa gasped.

"Yeah, there's an eighteen year old girl outside named Rapunzel with long blonde hair and big green eyes who grew up in an isolated tower all her life with a single mother. She looks a bit like you and very much like the queen. I'd say the odds are good. Oh, also her hair has healing magic," he added. "It glows when she sings."

Elsa was speechless.

"Um, that is rather a lot of important information. Any reason that you did not care to share this earlier?"

"You had a crossbow."

"Touche. So, what now?" she asked.

"Well, she really wants to see the lantern festival. It's been her dream for basically her whole life. Before we take her to the castle and tell her that everything she's ever known is a lie and her mother is actually a kidnapper, I'd like to give her this one really good birthday as just a girl before she has to be a princess," Flynn explained sheepishly.

Elsa softened. "I understand. Could I- tag along? I'd like to get to know my cousin a bit before we tear apart her entire idea of the world."

"Of course. I'll step out to let you change and then we can walk around a bit. I'll let Goldie know you're coming," Flynn said with a smile.

He ducked out from behind the screen and Elsa slipped back into her festivities outfit. It was a pale blue casual dress with a white apron and a darker blue kerchief into which she tucked her locks. It was simple, and that was how she liked it. With her pale hair covered, she blended in better and fewer people recognized and clamored over the princess. She could walk around unnoticed with ease. She slipped on her weapons under the skirt and apron, then smoothed the fabric to hide the bulges of daggers. She tied her purse at her waist and she was presentable for the public.

She stepped out of the seamstress's shop and cast about for a girl matching Flynn's description. She had to look no further because a gold and purple blur tackled her in a hug. Elsa stiffened briefly then relaxed into the embrace. She pulled back and examined the girl in front of her, not much younger than Elsa herself. Her breath caught when she spotted the enormous emerald eyes that were so like her Aunt Arianna's. It was really her. Flynn had found her cousin after all these years, alive and well. If Elsa had been a more emotional person, she might have cried. Instead, she gave a watery smile and clasped Rapunzel's hand.

"Hello. My name is Elsa. It's very nice to meet you properly," she said.

"I'm Rapunzel. Flynn has told me so much about you! I feel like we're already friends. It's so nice to meet you, too!" she exclaimed. "You seem much nicer when you're not pointing crossbows at us."

Elsa cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Yes, well. I was rather angry with Flynn at the time and took you for an accomplice. Please accept my apologies."

"It's alright. I'm just glad that you and Flynn made up. He's awfully fond of you, you know."

Elsa felt a blush overtake her cheeks and she muttered something vaguely conformational. She took in the rest of her cousin: Purple dress with intricate designs, just like something Arianna would have picked out for herself. Long blonde hair that was contained in a braid bedecked in flowers. Wide warm smile that she saw her uncle Frederic in. There could be no doubt that this was the girl she had been searching for.

"So are we gonna see the rest of the festival or not, Blondie? We don't have all day," Flynn prompted.

"Okay! Let's go. I want to see the library next. I grew up with three books, so a whole room full of them sounds exciting," she gushed. "Come on!" She dashed forward, then darted back to them. "I don't actually know which way to go."

Flynn and Elsa led the way, hand in hand. They walked and talked and laughed and enjoyed the festival. It was a good day filled with new experiences for Rapunzel. She reminded Elsa a lot of Anna with her enthusiasm and energy. She was reunited with her beloved Max, which lifted her spirits even further. She had thought he was fine, but it was good to have confirmation that her horse was alive and well. She got to know her cousin a little better and reconnected with Flynn.

It was probably the best time she'd ever had at the lantern festival, even including the year she and Flynn taught the village children how to do turtle races and the year that they had rocketed down the streets at exhilarating speeds in an empty wagon and ended up in the harbor.

But like all good moments, it had to come to an end. Elsa broke off from them when it was time to light the lanterns, saying she had to go and be part of the first lantern launch with her aunt and uncle. She felt bad for leaving them alone, but it couldn't be helped. Later, she would come to regret this decision.


End file.
